Gods Among Us
by andrewjameswilliams
Summary: StargateHeroes Xover. On a day trip to New York Daniel and Vala make a startling discovery that could change everything for the SGC and the fate of two galaxies.
1. Chapter 1

**Gods Among Us**

**Chapter One**

**JFK Airport**

**New York**

Doctor Daniel Jackson sighed and resisted the impulse to roll his eyes as the plane from Colorado Springs touched down on one of the runways of New York's JFK Airport with the familiar gentle bump. He couldn't help but wonder how he had let himself be talked into this; he had much better things to do back at Stargate Command.

Things like translating an Ancient tablet brought back from P5X-232, a tablet that in a roundabout, typically cryptic way promised to lead them to a hidden Ancient base. A base where the Ancients had supposedly docked their remaining warships after they retreated from the Pegasus Galaxy. If they could find the base and get the warships to fly it would go along way towards equalling the battle with the Ori. Even though the Ori themselves were almost certainly dead after he'd sent the Sangraal into their galaxy they were still facing an uphill battle against the Priors and the armies of fanatical followers they commanded.

But instead of being at the SGC Daniel found himself arriving at New York's main airport, in the company of none other than Vala Mal Doran. Vala had been nagging for months to see more of Earth than the SGC and the occasional trip to Colorado Springs, General Landry had given in and secured permission from the IOA for Vala to be allowed to see other places on the planet. But only on the condition that someone from Stargate Command accompany her as a guide, which was a polite way of saying someone to make sure the ex-Goa'uld host, thief and all round rogue behaved herself. _But why does that someone have to be me,_ Daniel thought with an inward resigned sigh, _why couldn't Cameron or Sam play tour guide for once. At least we're not travelling via commercial aircraft but a private air force chartered plane._

"Why do you sound so resigned, Daniel," Vala asked from where she was sitting in another nearby seat. Inwardly she knew the reason, Daniel would have much rather been buried in translations in his office back at the SGC than here with her. Why that was she really didn't know, surely seeing one of this planets many cities was much more fun than translating obscure Ancient tablets.

"Nothing, Vala," Daniel replied. "Now you do remember our cover story don't you?"

Vala sighed. "Yes," she answered.

"Repeat it to me."

Vala rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'm supposed to be your cousin visiting from Australia and you're showing me the sights of New York," she said.

"Good. And the rules General Landry laid out for you."

"That I am to stick close to you at all times and not ask too many questions that would give away I'm not from this planet," Vala replied.

"Good make sure you follow them," Daniel replied as he felt the plane taxi to a stop. After a moment an airman appeared near his elbow.

"Excuse me Doctor Jackson we're at the private aircraft terminal," the airman said. "A car has been arranged and is waiting outside."

Daniel smiled. "Thank you airman," he said, releasing his restraints and getting up. "Come on, Vala. Where do you fancy going first?"

Vala considered that for a few moments, mentally referring to what she knew about New York, knowledge that mostly came from television travel shows. There were a number of places that she wanted to see in this city, just where to start. Finally she smiled and spoke up.

"I would like to see this Statue of Liberty that I've heard so much about," she said.

"I'm afraid that might not be possible, Miss Mal Doran," the airman said. "It is extremely windy outside as a storm due to come ashore from the Atlantic in around an hour's time; the river might be too choppy for the ferries to the island to sail." Vala scowled and was about to give a caustic reply but Daniel spoke before she could even open her mouth.

"We'll go to the ferry terminal and see if their running," he said. "If there not then we can go somewhere else in the city."

"Fine," Vala muttered undoing her own restraints and getting up. Daniel smiled and led the way out of the jet to where a simple looking black car with a plain clothed airman sitting in the driver's seat waited outside.

Despite his ongoing inward annoyance at being here in New York, with Vala of all people, Daniel remembered his manners. Politely he opened one of the cars rear doors for Vala and mentioned for her to get inside. Vala gave him a confused look – not understanding why he was holding the car door open for her, but then she shrugged and climbed in the vehicle. Daniel closed the door and her and went around to the other side.

"Where to Dr Jackson," Airman Dave Turner who was their driver for the day asked.

"The terminal for the ferries to Liberty Island," Daniel replied, getting into the car.

"Yes, sir," Dave replied and started the engine. As soon as Daniel had secured his door the airman started the car moving, heading for the nearest way out of the airport onto the bustling streets of one of the biggest cities in the world.

* * *

**Twenty Minutes Later**

Daniel watched with well concealed amusement as Vala tried her level best not to fidget as the car made its way into New York. Traffic was extremely heavy and slow moving even though morning rush hour had long since passed. _Damn I'd forgotten what traffic can be like in this city,_ he thought, before glancing out the windows at the sidewalk which was surprisingly empty of people. Though Daniel could well understand why considering the dark clouds that had filled the sky, ominous, brooding monstrosities that had blotted out the sun and cast a terrible twilight down on the city that never slept. Almost everyone with an ounce of sense would be indoors out of the deluge that was going to come, when the storm coming in off the Atlantic Ocean unleashed its fury on the city. Even in the car he could feel an eerie, oppressive calm in the air, like the world was holding its breath waiting for the storm to begin.

"This is boring," Vala moaned from her seat. "How much longer till we get to the terminal?"

"At this rate another hour," Daniel answered, "the traffic is heavy today. Everyone trying to get wherever it is there going before the storm starts."

"The storm can't be that bad surely," Vala objected a moment before a flash of light caught her attention. "What was that?" she said a moment before a deep, ominous rumbling sound filled the air for a moment, a sound that seemed to resonate in her bones. _Thunder,_ she thought a moment before something hit the car. It came again, and again and again.

Looking forward towards the windscreen Vala saw spots of water appearing as raindrops began to fall, big drops from the size of the splatter. Daniel glanced out the window and looked up at the sky, visible above the artificial canyon created by the towering buildings on each side of the road. A thick grey haze was starting to descend from the clouds, even as the occasional bolt of lightning began to fork through the dark, broiling mass of the storm clouds. _Here we go,_ he thought as the heavier raindrops began falling, first in the odd handful but rapidly changing into a torrent that was so powerful that it obscured the world from clear view and produced a roaring sound inside the car.

Daniel glanced over at Vala. "Well were not going to be able to get on a ferry in this, Vala," he said even as he felt the car slow down some more.

"I guess not," Vala admitted, hiding her disappointment. "Hey why are we slowing down?"

"Traffic ahead is slowing down Miss Mal Doran," Airman Turner replied from the driver's seat. "There's road works about two miles up ahead that have closed a carriageway." As the driver spoke he brought the car to a complete halt as the traffic ahead stopped moving.

"Just what we need," Daniel mused, "a traffic jam."

Vala frowned at him. "A what," she asked.

"A traffic jam," Daniel repeated as the car crept forward a metre or two then stopped again. "It's what the road works up ahead are creating with the volume of cars and other vehicles on the road. You better make yourself comfortable; we could be here for awhile."

Vala looked carefully at Daniel to see if he was joking, but he wasn't. With a sigh of resignation she sat back in the seat to wait, wait and watch while they crept forward a metre or two at a time. _Hopefully we won't be here to long,_ she thought.

* * *

**An Hour Later**

Vala felt like screaming in frustration and boredom. They were still stuck in the stream of slow moving traffic, they had barely gotten a mile or so in the last hour, the car was just creeping along at a pace even slower than a brisk walking pace. She was more than a little fed up by now; sitting still with nothing to do was not one of her strong points and never had been. The view out the windows was boring and it was almost impossible to see anything through the heavy rain. It had been a very long time since she had seen rain this heavy.

"Daniel," she said in a whining tone of voice. "I'm bored."

"I know, Vala," Daniel replied looking over the rim of his glasses – which had slipped down his nose – at Vala. "But there is nothing we can do until we can get out of this traffic jam."

"There has to be something we can do to liven things up a bit. The last time I was this bored I took hostages," Vala answered, and then smiled suggestively. "That could be fun to try again."

"Don't even think about it," Daniel warned, he wouldn't put it past Vala to take someone hostage just for fun. It was something the beautiful former host, ex-thief and general all round rogue would do.

"Spoil sport," Vala shot back. "Come on there has to be something we can do? Somewhere close by that we can go."

Daniel considered for a moment, it had been a few years since he had last spent anytime in New York. And the last time had not gone well, though the ending had got him into the Stargate program when the then project director Catherine Langford had approached him for help. He tried to remember if there was anywhere in this part of the city that they could go to, but try as he might he couldn't remember.

"It's been awhile since I was last in this city," Daniel admitted. "Almost ten years in point of fact, I can't remember. Airman?"

"Yes, Dr Jackson," Dave asked keeping his voice calm when inwardly he was resisting the impulse to laugh his head off. Listening to Daniel Jackson and Vala Mal Doran bickering as they had been doing on and off since the airport was amusing to say the least.

"You're from this city, correct?"

"Yes, sir, I only transferred to the Stargate program last month."

"Good then you should be able to answer Vala's question. Is there anywhere close by here that we can go to?"

"That depends on what you want to do, sir."

"I just want to know a bit more about this planets culture," Vala said before Daniel could speak. "And I want to see the sights, if I can though I don't fancy getting soaked in the process."

Airman Turner considered for a moment. "There is a gallery about two blocks down and three blocks over from here," he said at last. "It's the only thing like that in this part of the city."

"That will do," Vala replied, excitedly. Even though galleries sounded like quite boring places from what she had heard about them, anything would be better than being stuck here in the car, trapped in a traffic jam. "Can we go," she asked.

"I don't see why not," Daniel replied, eager to get out of the traffic jam himself. Major traffic jams like this one were one thing he hadn't missed about New York. "Take us there, airman."

"Yes, sir," Dave replied.

* * *

It took them another twenty minutes to fight there way through the snail like traffic and get to their destination. The rain pounding the city had not eased up, if anything it had gotten heavier. The pavements and roads were all slick with water and the drains had become almost like small whirlpools as more water was coming down than the storm drains could quickly carry away.

Daniel glanced out of his window at the entrance to the gallery, amazingly it looked to be still open for business, he could see people moving about inside and as he watched a woman came out, unfolded an umbrella and walked away.

"Looks like there still open for business," he said.

"Great, let's get in there," Vala said. "Even though we'll get wet in the time it takes to get from in here to in there."

"Not necessarily, Miss Mal Doran," their driver said from the front. "If you and Dr Jackson look in the pouches on the backs of the front seats you'll find there are folded up water proof cagoules for you. I put them there when I heard the storm was coming."

Daniel smiled. "Excellent thinking, airman," he said even as he reached into the pocket and took out a blue cagoule that was folded up surprisingly tightly. Carefully he unfolded it and put the thing on. Before glancing over at Vala and seeing that she had just done the same thing.

"Come on then, Vala," he said opening his door and climbing out and almost being blown over by the strong gale force wind that was tearing across the city, propelling the sheets of raindrops with stinging force. _Whoa,_ Daniel thought, _damn I forgot how strong the winds from Atlantic storms can be._ While closing his door he glanced over at the other side of the car to see how Vala was faring getting out, just in time to see her stagger in surprise from the force of the wind.

After closing her door, with difficulty as the wind was gusting and swirling around the block did its best to hold the door open, Vala made her way around the outside of the car. Despite the gusting wind blowing her thick black hair, that peaked out from under the cagoules hood, around all over the place Daniel could clearly see the scowl on her face. Vala clearly did not like the strong wind and stingingly heavy rain one bit, not that Daniel could blame her. Atlantic storms were never the best things to be out in, though the one currently battering New York was mild by the standards of the Atlantic Ocean.

"Come on," Daniel said, having to raise his voice slightly to be heard over the howling wind. Without waiting for a response, and not wanting to stay out in the rain any longer than he had to, Daniel led the way to the front door of the gallery. He pushed open the door and led the way inside, sighing in relief as he entered the warm, dry environment of the gallery.

"Blah what awful weather," Vala complained as she came in behind Daniel. Then she glanced around the first of the galleries many show rooms and a smile played on her lips. There were expensive looking paintings in lovely looking frames against all of the walls. In addition exquisite looking statues and ornaments in glass display cases stood here and there in the room. _I could make a fortune in here,_ the thief part of herself told her greedily.

"It is bad," Daniel agreed, "though believe me that storm is tame compared to the kind of monsters the Atlantic can spawn when it really wants to."

Vala nodded but did not answer; instead she started forward looking at the paintings with intense interest visible on her face. Recognising the look of avarice in her eyes, Daniel made a mental note to keep a very close eye on Vala while they were in here. Though to be fair to her Vala was getting better at controlling her thieving instincts, and it would be difficult to steal something from here as Daniel knew all the paintings and display cases would have alarm sensors monitoring them. Still he would keep an eye on Vala to make sure that she wasn't tempted to try and steal something as there was no doubt in Daniel's mind that Vala would be quickly able to bypass any alarms this place had.

Carefully Daniel began moving around the gallery himself while being sure to keep Vala just in his line of sight, ready to intervene if she were to be tempted. Despite his intentions however he soon found himself being distracted by the artwork displayed on the walls, the more modern pieces didn't catch his interest, but the ones that were inspired by classical styles did. One lovely painting showing a sunrise over Yosemite National Park caught his attention and he could tell it was a real painting not a photo print. _What a lovely painting,_ Daniel thought, _pity I have nowhere to hang it at home or in my office, I would be tempted to buy it otherwise._

Pulling himself away from the painting Daniel looked around and noticed that Vala had disappeared. _Oh great where has she disappeared to now,_ he thought beginning to look around for her. But he couldn't see her in this particular room, muttering potential recriminations to himself about letting Vala out of his sight for a few minutes, he moved into the next room of the gallery, this was a bit smaller than the first main room and the paintings had a altogether different character to them. Most looked like they had been painted by a gifted comic artist, they all had the feeling of stark, surreal realism to them that was all the rage in modern comics.

"Cant account for bad taste," Daniel said to himself giving the images a quick scan and finding them starkly different to the bright, cheerful comic images he remembered from his own childhood. Ignoring the images he made his way into the next and last room of the gallery. And sure enough there in front of him was Vala Mal Doran.

"Ah Vala there you are," Daniel said, and frowned when Vala did not answer him. Looking at Vala he saw that she was standing stark still like a statue, staring at something on the far wall a look of complete and total shock on her face. "Vala," he said, "Vala what is it? What's wrong?"

"Daniel look at the wall," Vala said her voice thick with disbelief and keeping her eyes focused on the far wall. "Tell me that I'm seeing things."

Frowning in confusion Daniel followed Vala's gaze and the frown on his face melted away into a look of complete and total shock. The paintings on the wall were impossible, they should not, could not, be here, but they were. As incredible as it seemed, the paintings were devastatingly, impossibly real.

The paintings were of Atlantis.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Daniel and Vala stared at the painting on the wall in front of them, both momentarily paralysed with shock at the impossibility they were confronted with. Neither of them could quite believe what they were seeing, even though they both knew that the image was real, that they weren't dreaming.

Finally after a few more moments Daniel's mind came out of its stunned silence and he looked at the image closely and noticed minute details that truly indicated that it was a painting of Atlantis. It showed the city as seen from an airborne vantage point, floating serenely on the surface of Lantea's ocean. He could even make out a faint darker shape on one of the piers, a shape in the form of the _Daedalus_. _How,_ Daniel thought, _how can this be here, it should be impossible, only a select few on this planet know Atlantis is not just an ancient legend. None of them can paint, and even if they could they would know better than to put a painting of the city on sale in a public gallery._ _There's got to be a security breach somewhere, damn both General Landry and the IOA are going to go nuts._

Looking more closely at the image Daniel noticed that down in the bottom left hand corner was a tiny scrawl, almost certainly the artist's signature. Though try as he might he could not read the scrawl, it was too small and very hard for him to read, he would need a magnifying glass to read it properly. _There's got to be something else around here,_ he thought, _something to tell me who the artist that painted this picture is._ Carefully Daniel started to look around for something to indicate who the artist was only to freeze again, as he saw another picture of Atlantis, and another, and another. In truth there were five of them, lined up side by side.

"Daniel look at these pictures," Vala said looking at them closely herself. "There depicting something happening in Atlantis, something terrible."

Daniel frowned and took a few steps back to look at the paintings properly, and immediately realised that Vala was right. The first painting showed Atlantis just serenely floating there on the surface of the ocean. The second painting was clearly somewhere inside the city, a room of some sort – the copper coloured walls, crystalline windows and light fittings were dead giveaways that it was Atlantis – from the amount of equipment present some of it clearly Earth made indicated it was a lab. There were people present in the room, but Daniel couldn't see their faces.

The third painting again showed the lab with the people present, but now two of them were sheathed in red and yellow light, flames seemingly bursting forth from them. The forth painting once again showed Atlantis from the outside, but now the yellow flash of a fireball was bursting forth from the side of one the central towers, next to the main tower, small bits appeared to be flying away from the fireball obviously debris from the explosion. The fifth and final painting showed the outside of Atlantis once again, but now there was a gaping hole in the side of one of the towers and a large section of the tower was in flames, thick black smoke rising above the city.

"Yikes looks like one hell of an explosion. We have to let General Landry know about this," Vala pointed out. "He's not going to be at all happy."

"I wouldn't blame him," Daniel replied, reaching under his cagoule and taking his modified mobile phone out of his pocket. A phone modified to include a component to scramble and decode the signal so he could talk securely to someone. With a faint sigh he flipped open the phone and dialled the direct number for General Landry's office, then raised the phone to his ear and waited for an answer.

**

* * *

General Landry's Office**

**Stargate Command, A Few Moments Later**

For one of the few times in his life General Hank Landry found himself unable to speak, his whole body feeling numb in a mixture of surprise, shock and alarm. The phone felt numb in his hand as Doctor Jackson's words echoed through his mind. When he had been told that there was a surprise call coming in from Daniel Jackson he had known that something was wrong. He had assumed that it was something to do with Vala, not this.

To be told that the very heavy security around the Stargate Program had been breached was bad, to be told that breach involved the greatest prize in the program the city of Atlantis, was terrible. But what made it worse, what turned it into a nightmare was the place where the paintings were located, a gallery where anyone with enough money could come along and purchase them.

"How many paintings are there, doctor," Landry said at last. He would have to inform his superiors about this and he knew they were going to throw a fit, the IOA especially would go absolutely nuts. Two things were certain though, one they would want to get these paintings out of public sight as quickly as possible, two they needed to find the artist who painted them. Whoever he or she was they were going to have a lot of questions to answer.

"Five," Daniel answered. "And general there is something strange about them, about how their displayed. Its like there narrating something, some sequence of events, comic book style."

Despite the seriousness of the situation Landry couldn't help but be curious. "And what are they depicting," he asked.

"A disaster in Atlantis, an explosion followed by a fire," Daniel answered.

"I see. Okay then doctor, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to get a containment team out there ASAP to retrieve those pictures. While I see to that I want you to start asking questions, see if you can find out who the artist who painted the pictures is and where he or she lives. Whoever it is, there going to have some very pointed questions to answer."

"I understand," Daniel acknowledged. "I'll get Airman Turner in here for some additional backup. We'll do our best to get some answers for when the containment team get here."

"That's all I can ask," Landry replied. "In the meantime I will alert the president, the IOA and Atlantis to this breach of security. Good luck, Daniel."

"To both of us," Daniel answered a smile in his voice. "Something tells me we are both going to need it."

With that the phone went dead. Hank Landry took it away from his ear and stared at it for a moment like it was the vilest thing in the world. Then he put it down and picked up the red phone on his desk, the one that connected his office directly with the White House. He was not going to enjoy the next few conversations he was going to have, especially the one he was saving for last which was alerting Elizabeth to the fact that security in Atlantis had once again been compromised.

"This is General Landry," he said into the phone. "Get me the president."

"Stand by," a White House switchboard operator said. For a moment the phone was silent aside from some holding music. Then President Henry Hayes came on the line.

"Yes, general," Hayes asked.

"Mr President we have a problem," Landry said.

For a moment their was silence. "Does it have something to do with the Ori," Hayes asked.

"No sir. But it is equally serious, Mr President I am sorry to tell you but it appears that SGC security has been breached seriously breached. Dr Jackson just called me from New York; there are paintings of Atlantis on public display at a gallery in the city."

"What! How the-?" Hayes started to say then went quiet for a moment and Landry could just picture the president sitting in his comfortable desk chair in the Oval Office taking a deep breath to gather his thoughts. "Tell me everything, general. Start at the beginning and leave nothing out."

And Landry did just that.

**

* * *

Gallery**

**New York**

Daniel sighed to himself and closed his mobile phone that had gone better than he had expected it to. General Landry had reacted with more calm than what he would have expected, though he was less than happy about the security breach. Carefully Daniel returned the phone to his pocket and glanced over at Vala, who was waiting expectantly.

"What did he say," Vala asked.

Daniel grimaced and glanced around before answering Vala. "As you can imagine he's not happy about security being breached," he said. "He's sending a containment team to come and get the paintings, in the meantime we need to get Airman Turner out of the car and start asking questions to find who the artist is."

Vala nodded. "Alright," she replied. "Though I must admit that I do not like the idea of getting wet, again!"

"Nobody likes that Vala," Daniel answered. "But complaining about it is not going to change anything."

"Why don't you go out and get Airman Turner," Vala suggested. "While I find someone who I can start asking questions of, I'll be careful, Daniel. Please let me do this."

Daniel looked at Vala for a moment, and then nodded in agreement. Vala wasn't the person she had been when he had first met her that time she had hijacked the _Prometheus_, or even the same person who had made that fateful subspace 'trip' to the Ori galaxy. That person he wouldn't have trusted as far as he could throw her. Nearly two years of war with the Ori had changed her, changed them all. She had earned the trust he was giving her by agreeing to her plan.

"Okay let's do this," he said then turned and walked out of the gallery room towards the main room of the gallery and the main entrance to the storm lashed world outside.

Vala watched him leave, she realised that despite the trust that had been built between them and the rest of SG-1 the last two years Daniel was still taking a big risk trusting her to do what she had said. The thief part of herself kept telling her to take advantage of this opportunity to 'borrow' some valuable artworks, but Vala ignored it. She resolutely shoved the thief back into her cerebral cage and made her way out to the main room, looking for a member of the gallery staff. Who would hopefully be able to answer their questions about the obviously gifted, well connected artist who had painted the images of Atlantis, pictures that were… disturbing in more ways than one.

* * *

It took Daniel only a few moments to return to the gallery with Airman Turner. The storm battering New York was now raging at full force, the endless torrent of rain now so heavy it was literally bouncing when it hit the pavement. At the same time the gale force wind howled through the streets, while massive arcs of pure energy crackled through the broiling black mass of clouds.

"Ugh what a horrible afternoon," Dave Turner said as he shook his head, clearing some water out of his hair, while inwardly cursing the fact that he had forgotten to put a cagoule for himself in the car as well.

"No argument there," Daniel agreed, even as the lights in the gallery momentarily dimmed then came back up to full brightness. Daniel looked up at them and scowled, knowing that the storm was responsible; the increasing frequency of lightning strikes would be playing havoc with the cities power grid. _Stay on,_ he told them silently, _the last thing we need is for you to go out._

Glancing around the gallery he quickly spotted Vala, she was talking with a tall middle aged man. It was immediately obvious to Daniel from her posture that Vala did not like what she was being told. Quickly Daniel crossed the distance separating them.

"Problem, Vala," he asked.

"This gentlemen works at this gallery," Vala said, half glaring at the middle aged man who met her gaze without flinching. "I just asked him about those paintings we were admiring; he doesn't know much about them. There not for sale apparently, they've been 'reserved' by someone else, and he doesn't know who the artist is."

"Is this true," Daniel asked.

"I'm afraid it is sir," the salesman answered with a soft smile. "The paintings of the alien city your lovely companion has said about have been reserved by one of our biggest customers."

"I see," Daniel replied. "Who is this person?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, the customer values his anonymity, only the manageress knows who he is."

"Can we speak with her?"

"I'm afraid Ms Deveraux is not here at the moment, sir. She is currently out of town; she's gone to an art fair in San Diego."

"Damn," Daniel said, mentally swearing to himself in a couple of the different alien languages that he knew, including Goa'uld and Ancient. "What about the artist, are you sure you don't know who he is?"

"I'm afraid I don't really know who he is," the salesman answered. "I've been working here for a month; I've only met the guy once. I think his name is Ivan, Issac or something like that but I can't be sure and I have no clue as to what his surname is. The deputy manager would know but he had to come home early, his wife went into labour with their first child. Ms Deveraux would know as well unfortunately as I said she is not even in the city at the moment."

"Is there any way we can speak with her," Daniel asked. "Believe me its important."

The salesman looked at him for a few moments in silence. Daniel met his gaze and the two stared at each other for a moment, then the salesman looked away. "I can try giving her mobile a call," he said. "But that is all I can do."

"That will have to do," Daniel replied, mentally scowling as the salesman went to the front desk and took a cordless phone off its charger/base station. _What else can go wrong,_ he thought, _the IOA is going to have a fit that we haven't been able to find much out. There probably going to sic the NID on this one, and if they get involved then The Trust probably will as well. That's all we need._

As if in answer to his thought 'what else can go wrong' there came a powerful, rumbling boom, like an explosion. Instantly all the lights in the gallery went out, the glowing LCD screen of the till also went dead, as did the signal on the cordless phone in the salesman's hand.

"Now what," Vala said looking up and scowling at the suddenly dark panels which had previously filling the gallery with a diffuse white light.

"Lightning," Airman Turner said from where he was standing. "The electricity substation two blocks down from here must have been struck, this whole section of the city is probably now in darkness."

"Terrific," Daniel answered with a scowl. _What a day this has turned into,_ he thought, _had I known it was going to be this much trouble I would have stayed in bed this morning._

"Now what do we do," Vala asked.

"You have to leave," the salesman said returning. "Customers are not permitted to be in the gallery in the event of a power failure, I'll have to lock up as much as I possibly can until power is restored. You are quite welcome to return once the power is back. The paintings you were asking about aren't due to be picked up for three days, so you have plenty of time."

"Fine, fine," Daniel replied. "We'll be back, just please do me a favour and keep those paintings here for as long as possible."

"I can't make any promises but we will try," the salesman answered. "May I take your name please sir, Ms Deveraux will want to know that there is someone else interested in the paintings."

"Daniel Jackson," Daniel answered.

"Thank you," the salesman replied jotting down Daniel's name on a piece of paper that he had seemingly produced from nowhere. "And can I take a contact number for you, sir?"

Daniel nodded and provided the salesman with his mobile phone number, as long as he didn't get sent off world in the meantime they would be able to get hold of him on it, even when he was at the SGC buried deep beneath Cheyenne Mountain. The fact the you could get mobile phone reception even there now never ceased to amaze him, he could clearly remember the time when you hadn't been able to use mobiles, though as it was the military insisted all mobiles be switched off when entering the complex.

"Thank you, sir," the salesman replied. "Now would you and your companions mind leaving the premises so I can lock up."

"Certainly," Daniel replied, turning and leading the way out of the gallery out into the storm, Vala and Airman Dave Turner a few steps behind him.

The salesman watched them go, through the front windows he saw that they didn't go very far, just to a car that was waiting outside. Though with the windows awash with run off from the continuing rainfall he could not make out the make or model of the vehicle. That encounter had been very odd, those three people had something, some air about them that screamed that they were a lot more than they appeared. Though the salesman didn't think that it was the kind of difference he was used to dealing with. Still he knew his employer – his real employer – would be interested in what was going on.

Quietly he took a mobile phone from his own pocket and dialled in a number and waited. After a few moments the phone was answered.

"Yes Jansen," a male voice answered.

"Sir I've just had a very strange encounter that I believe you should know about," Jansen replied. "Three people came into the shop and showed an inordinate amount of interest in Mr Mendez's latest paintings, the ones of the alien city."

There was silence for a moment. "Do you think there specials," the voice asked.

"No sir I don't think so," Jansen answered. "They didn't feel like they were, though one the one calling himself Daniel Jackson felt downright odd to me. One of them was clearly military I could tell from his bearing even though he was in civilian clothes. As it is there outside the shop now in a car, like there waiting for something."

"I see. Alright Jansen here is what I want you to do," the voice answered though there was a tone to the voice now that Jansen had never heard before. "I want you to keep an eye on this situation and alert me immediately if there is any change. I meantime I will try and speed up the collection of the paintings."

"Yes sir, Mr Linder man," Jansen replied. The phone went dead in his ear and Jansen put his phone away and glanced out the window, through the virtual wall of falling water at the car that was still parked outside. Its hazard warning lights were flashing now as though it had engine trouble, though he could tell that was pretend. _Amateurs,_ he thought before turning his attention to the business of locking up.

As he did so he thought about the encounter that he had just had. He wondered what the militaries interest in Issac Mendez's paintings could be. Especially fantasy paintings of alien cities, it made no sense at all. Then a thought occurred to Jansen, could the military have found out about people like Issac and himself, people with unique and special abilities.

It was not a pleasant thought. Jansen shuddered to think what the US military – indeed any military on the planet – would do with people who had superhuman abilities. They certainly wouldn't hesitate to use their abilities to further whatever goals they decided upon. If the military did come after them for their powers then Jansen knew that for all the resources of The Company Mr Linderman would not be able to do anything to stop them. Everything The Company had been working towards since the first special abilities appeared would be for nothing.

Jansen glanced out of the window again at the parked car, still sat there with its hazard lights flashing away. He considered destroying it here and now, killing the three people inside, it would be easy for him to reduce that car to a twisted, gutted wreck. But he knew he couldn't do it, it would guarantee increased interest from the military and the intelligence community. Interest that would be both annoying and potentially dangerous to The Company. So he pushed aside the temptation to unleash the full potential of his power on the car and concentrated on staying in his designated character as a salesman and the business of locking up the gallery.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**Doctor Weir's Office**

**Atlantis, Four Hours Later**

Doctor Elizabeth Weir, director and senior administrator of the Atlantis expedition, sat in the quiet of her office going through her last few files before the day of rest ordered by Dr Heitmeyer got fully underway – they were already a good three hours into it. During the next day no one would be allowed to do anything work related, no paperwork, no experiments, no off world missions, nothing. Everyone in Atlantis – herself included – was to take it easy for one day and just indulge in pastimes.

Looking at the mountain of paperwork waiting on her desk, Elizabeth seriously considered disobeying the order to take the day off and instead use the time to break the back of her paperwork. But she knew she would never get away with it, and truth be told she could do with a day off. She hadn't really had one – a proper one – since she had been back to Earth at the end of the first year of the Atlantis expedition. Her last visit to Earth didn't count as she had had to face a grilling from the IOA members about 'allowing' two Wraith hiveships to get access to intergalactic hyperspace technology and set course for Earth. As it was they had been able to stop the Wraith ships but the price had been high, the _Orion_ – their only recovered operational Ancient warship – had been destroyed and the _Daedalus_ hammered to within an inch of destruction.

With effort Elizabeth shook off her memories of the last time she had been back to Earth, and focused on finishing off her paperwork.

She was almost finished with her paperwork when Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard appeared at the entrance to the room. Elizabeth immediately noticed the grave look on the normally chirpy mans face, and she knew that whatever news he had it was bad.

"Elizabeth," he said. "Sorry to bother you but we have a serious problem."

"Its okay, John what is it?" Elizabeth asked, a feeling of cold dread running down her spine.

"We've just received a subspace relay message from the midway station," John said holding out an electronic notepad. "It's bad."

Trepidation filling her Elizabeth accepted the electronic notepad and began to read through it, noting immediately that the message came directly from General Landry. As she read through the message her eyes widened in shock and horror, the security around Atlantis had been breached, breached in a very big way. There were paintings of the city on display in a public gallery in New York. Investigations into who had painted them and how they knew what Atlantis looked like were underway but Elizabeth knew that the source of the leak had to be here somewhere.

"Is this correct," she asked.

"Yes it is," John replied grimly. "I had it checked over three times as it came in there is no mistake. Somehow our security has been massively breached."

Elizabeth glanced at the communiqué again then looked at John. "Cancel all leave time, get all the senior staff in the conference room immediately," she ordered. "Put out a general announcement to all personnel throughout the city. The day of rest is suspended until further notice."

"I'll put out the announcement," John replied. "Doctor Beckett has already gone to the mainland with Major Lorne, they went fishing. Rodney was supposed to go as well but changed his mind at the last minute, I'm not sure why."

"I think we can both guess why," Elizabeth replied with an amused smile, John smiled back. They both knew Rodney was completely smitten with one of their team of botanists. "Get Major Lorne and Carson back here, and tell Colonel Caldwell that the departure of the _Daedalus_ is going to have to be delayed. Then we can work out how we are going to respond to this. No personnel have transferred off Atlantis in months, the leak is almost certain to be still here."

John nodded and left the office to send a signal to the mainland to get Atlantis' chief medic and his second in command back here. Then he would round up Rodney, Ronan, Teyla and the rest of the senior staff and get them all into the briefing room so they could respond to the breach in their security. _If it's not the Wraith or the Asurans its something else,_ John thought with a mental sigh, _can't we ever catch a break around here? Surely one day of peace and quiet isn't too much to ask for? Is it?_

**

* * *

Lantean Mainland**

Doctor Carson Beckett sighed blissfully as he leaned back on the bank of a softly flowing river on the largest of Lantea's single massive super-continent. His fishing rod sat beside him prodded up on the bait box, a line trailing from it into the softly flowing water. The Athosians living in a now semi-permanent settlement thirty miles to the south had long ago discovered that this was the time of year when a salmon-like fish made its annual migration upstream from the massive ocean that dominated the planet to their spawning grounds.

Closing his eyes Carson inhaled a breath of the pine-analogue scented air and let himself relax. This place was certainly a very welcome change from the constant hubbub of Atlantis, here he could almost believe he was back on Earth, here he could really let his guard down and relax. Keeping his guard down Carson mentally lowered the barriers in his mind that helped keep him sane when he was surrounded by people, and luxuriated in the total silence that filled him, the total peace and quite. _This was certainly a very good idea,_ he thought, _I'll have to talk to Heitmeyer, if we join forces I'm sure we can convince Elizabeth to make this a monthly event._

He was on the verge of falling asleep when a soft bleeping from the direction of the parked puddle jumper jolted him awake. _Now what,_ he thought opening his eyes with a sigh and getting to his feet as the bleeping sound came from the jumper again. A bleep he recognised as coming from the jumpers communications system.

"Alright, alright I'm coming," he said moving over to the Ancient-made craft and going inside. The communications system bleeped for attention again as he sat down in the pilots seat and touched the controls, making there crystalline surface immediately light up as they reacted to his ATA gene.

"Beckett here," he said into the communications system.

"Doc its Sheppard," John Sheppard replied. "Is Major Lorne there with you?"

"He's not far away," Carson replied carefully, his Scottish accent thickening slightly as it dawned on his that this was not a social call. Something was wrong in Atlantis, very wrong he could hear it in John's voice. He didn't say where Lorne was, he couldn't even though he could guess, it was a secret. A secret he shared with Major Evan Lorne, a secret no one else in Atlantis knew, not even Rodney – who had sort of become Carson's best friend – knew the secret that they shared.

"Good. We need you both back here ASAP," John answered, his voice showing no sign that he had noted anything odd in the way Carson had spoken. Not that Carson had expected him to he had long ago gotten good at giving evasive answers – without them appearing to be evasive.

"What's happened," Carson asked mental alarm bells going off at full volume.

"There's a staff meeting arranged for when you return, everything will be explained then. I will say this though the problem that we've got is serious, very serious. Elizabeth is putting the day of rest on hold as a result," John answered. "Just get back here as quickly as you can."

"Understood, sir we'll be there as soon as possible," Major Lorne abruptly said from behind Carson, making the Scotsman almost jump out of his skin in surprise. As the communications link with Atlantis closed down with a soft bleep Carson turned and gave Lorne a look of momentary annoyance for trying to give him a heart attack. "What?" Lorne asked.

"Nothing," Carson replied. "I wont ask how you got back here so quickly, I already know that," he continued seeing a knowing grin appear on Evan Lorne's face, "what I want to know is how you knew that we had a call from Atlantis."

"Easy I set the jumpers computer to bleep my radio if we received a message from Atlantis," Evan answered. "You better get your fishing stuff back together, Carson. It sounds like something is seriously wrong back in Atlantis."

"Aye, Elizabeth wouldn't cancel the rest day otherwise," Carson answered getting up from the pilot's seat which promptly made the controls go dark again. Without waiting for a reply he turned and walked out of the jumper to go and get his fishing stuff back together, quietly wondering what exactly was going on back in Atlantis. _We will know soon enough, _he thought to himself.

**

* * *

Atlantis**

**One Hour Later**

Doctor Rodney McKay walked to the briefing room with a puzzled frown on his face; he had just received an urgent summons to report to the briefing room. A summons that he didn't have to be a genius to know was related to the announcement that Elizabeth had made earlier over the citywide intercom. An announcement that due to unforeseen but urgent developments the expeditions teams 'Sunday off' was being suspended.

Arriving in the briefing room Rodney noticed a veritable who's who of the senior expedition team staff present, along with Colonel Caldwell from the _Daedalus._ Present as well were the teams two members who were native to the Pegasus Galaxy and thus invaluable help against as well as being a good source of information on the Wraith. Teyla Emmagen and Ronan Dex were sitting next to Colonel Sheppard and Rodney immediately noticed the grim look on his face, unlike everyone else in the room he clearly knew what was going on. The only ones who weren't here were Major Evan Lorne and Doctor Carson Beckett.

_Probably still on there way back from fishing on the mainland,_ Rodney thought as he sat down next to his friend, colleague and occasional verbal sparring partner Doctor Radek Zelenka. He couldn't help but feel a stab of guilt for not going fishing with Carson. The friendly, mild mannered Scottish doctor had asked him to go a few days ago, when Elizabeth had first announced that she was acting on Dr Heitmeyer's recommendation and making it mandatory for everyone in Atlantis to take a day off. He had wanted to agree to go with his close friend, but he hadn't, he'd turned Carson down, on the excuse that he didn't know how to fish. The reality was however he had wanted to spend time here working up the courage to ask a certain botanist to have dinner with him.

"What's this about," Rodney asked Radek quietly.

"Not a clue, though I was hanging around the control room when we received an urgent relayed subspace message from Stargate Command," Radek replied.

Rodney scowled. "That would explain it," he said. "They must have found something out, something bad that involves us. I just hope we don't have a repeat performance of last time."

Radek nodded in agreement, he hoped so as well as he didn't know if his nerves would put up with a repeat performance of the last time. Last time they had received a relay message like this from Stargate Command it had been a warning that the Goa'uld infested Trust had planted a bomb to destroy Atlantis. It had been true but not in the sense of an actual explosive device, even for the Goa'uld it would have been difficult bordering on the impossible to smuggle an explosive device into Atlantis. After a desperate search of the city they had finally discovered that their power systems had been sabotaged, sabotage carried out by a Goa'uld agent that had infested and taken over the body of Colonel Caldwell.

Radek was spared replying for at that moment the doors to the briefing room – a room that had once served as a meeting place for the High Council of the Ancients – opened again to admit Doctor Carson Beckett and Major Evan Lorne. Both were still wearing the same fishing gear that they had been in when they left and Carson looked slightly out of breath as though they had run from the jumper bay.

"Ah good we're all here now," Elizabeth Weir said from the head of the table as Carson and Lorne moved to sit down in their normal places. "I'm sure that you are all curious as to why this meeting has been called at such short notice, and why the rest day we were all looking forward to has been cancelled."

"I think the thought has crossed all of our minds," Rodney replied. "What's going on?"

"As some of you may be aware almost two hours ago now we received a subspace transmission relayed from the midway station," Elizabeth answered. "The message was from General Landry at Stargate Command and was a warning that the security of this base has once again been breached, breached in away that is far worse than last time." Deadly silence reigned in the room and Elizabeth allowed it to linger, to give everyone a moment to get their heads around the notion that Atlantis was once again in danger.

"Is it the trust again," Colonel Caldwell asked after a moment, hiding an inward shudder as he remembered how he had been a helpless, horrified prisoner in his own body the last time. The memories of his time as a host to a Goa'uld still haunted him, and probably would until the day he died, as it wasn't something you got over in a hurry.

"No it's far worse than the trust," Elizabeth replied. "Paintings of Atlantis are on display in a public gallery in New York city back on Earth."

"What!" Caldwell said even as shocked gasps rippled through the room. "How can that be? And how to do we know?"

"The paintings were discovered at the gallery by Doctor Daniel Jackson of SG-1," Elizabeth replied. "Apparently he's playing chaperone in New York at the moment for someone called Vala Mal Doran."

"He wont like that," Rodney said knowingly, remembering what Daniel Jackson was like though he had only met the guy once or twice in his dealings with Stargate Command. "Playing chaperone I mean, knowing Daniel he would much rather by buried in translating something in that disorganised mess he calls an office."

"You can't say anything Rodney," Radek pointed out. "Your desk is forever covered with things."

"So is yours," Rodney shot back.

"We're getting off track here," Colonel Caldwell said before Rodney and Radek could really start bitching at each other. "The question should be how those paintings got to New York. Did somebody here make them? Can anyone in the city even paint?"

"I can, sir," Major Lorne replied. "But I haven't painted any images of Atlantis in the time I've been here I hardly paint at all these days."

"No one's accusing you of anything, major," Elizabeth said, though she was surprised to learn that Evan Lorne could paint. Then again she supposed she shouldn't be, painting was a very private pastime and she knew Evan to be a very private person even though he had a large circle of friends in Atlantis. "The paintings were made on Earth though we haven't yet discovered who the artist is," she said. "The question should be how did the artist know what both the interior and outside of this city looks like."

"What do the paintings look like," Rodney asked.

"There are no exact details at the moment," Elizabeth replied. "The SGC and IOA are trying to acquire the pictures as we speak but they are being hampered by the fact that an Atlantic storm has knocked out power to large areas of New York and the fact that the paintings have been reserved by a private collector. The information we do have however indicates that they are very accurate aerial and internal pictures of the city, they even show the _Daedalus_ docked on one of the piers."

For a moment there was silence. "There that detailed," Rodney asked breaking the ominous quiet.

"According to Doctor Jackson's report yes," Elizabeth replied.

"How can he know that it's the _Daedalus_," Ronan asked.

"He can't but Daniel is incredibly observant and very smart for a linguist and archaeologist," Rodney replied. "He was the one who first translated the inscriptions on the cover stone that buried Earth's Stargate; they were in Goa'uld which is a very complex language especially in its written form. He also discovered the gate address of Atlantis from the outpost the Ancients left behind on Earth. Plus Daniel almost certainly knows the ship transit schedule and thus knows that the _Daedalus_ is the only ship that we have that comes here. The _Odyssey _is constantly busy with the Ori."

"As fascinating as that is, Rodney," John Sheppard interrupted speaking for the first time. "We are getting off track again."

"Colonel Sheppard is right," Colonel Caldwell said. "If those paintings were made on Earth then the question we need to ask ourselves how did the artist know what this city looks like. Someone must have told him or her."

"It would take more than a verbal description of the city to get something like that correct, sir," Lorne said. "Its almost impossible to paint a scene just from a verbal description, to get the exact details of the city correct then the artist would need visible reference material, like photographs, to work from."

"So whoever told the artist about the city must have taken pictures as well," John said scowling. "Whoever this person is we need to find them, we cant have someone going around snapping pictures of the city. If the gave them to the tabloids back home there would be hell to pay. The whole Stargate program would be compromised."

"What are tabloids," Teyla asked curious, before Ronan could ask the same thing.

"There a type of news media known for sensation journalism," Elizabeth replied. "But that is beside the point, what we all need to do is work out who could take photos of the city and somehow smuggle them back to Earth."

"The _Daedalus _would be the best place to start," Caldwell admitted, he didn't like admitting even to himself that someone on his ship could be responsible for this but he knew it was a possibility. "Given our regular run to and from Earth the _Daedalus_ is the most obvious courier for seditious photos."

"Then we'll start there," Elizabeth said decisively. "Colonel Caldwell I want you to work with Colonel Sheppard, put together a series of interviews with everyone on the _Daedalus_. Once their eliminated from the investigation we can start going through all the various personnel who are assigned to this city."

Caldwell nodded and opened his mouth to reply, but his words were never heard. For at that moment a terrible, echoing, concussive roar filled the room and the city shook violently under them as if gripped by a sudden earthquake.

The city steadied itself as the melodic chimes of Ancient alarm klaxons split the air, mixing with the harsher more grating tones of Earth installed fire alarm sirens. Elizabeth Weir shot to her feet and bolted out of the room to the control centre, with almost everyone following closely behind her.

"Report," Elizabeth ordered running into the control room.

"Explosion in the number three tower, lab section," one of the control room technicians reported as Rodney went to one of the main consoles.

"We've got a fire," he added as he studied the display. "Fire control systems are bringing it under control."

"Casualty reports are starting to come in," another operator reported as Carson Beckett raced out of the control room to take charge of the emergency rescue teams.

"How bad," Elizabeth asked.

"Unknown at this time."

"Keep me apprised," Elizabeth ordered. "John, work with Doctor Beckett start putting together emergency search times. Search every section around the blast site and be careful."

"I will," Sheppard replied and left the room.

Elizabeth watched him go then left the room herself, going out onto the balcony outside her office. From here she could see a thick cloud of smoke boiling out of the side of a large nearby tower; even from here she could see flames from the fire that was still burning though the combination of Ancient and Earth installed fire control systems would bring the blaze under control shortly. Even from here though she could see a gaping hole in the side of the tower where the blast had presumably originated.

"Like the painting," she breathed softly remembering the descriptions of the paintings showing an explosion and a gaping hole in the side of one of the beautiful, ancient cities towers. _It's like the artist knew this was going to happen,_ she thought, _but how, how could he or she know. There's something more going on here, I can feel it. I'll get to the bottom of this. I must._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**Atlantis**

**Five Hours Later**

The first thing that Doctor Elizabeth Weir noticed when she stepped off the closest transporter station to the damaged section of the city was the smell. A terrible, acrid smell, a stench that irritated the nose and back of the throat, a smell created by scorched metal, melted plastic and the terrible smell of burned flesh. _How many people were in this section of this tower when the blast occurred,_ she thought, _how many were killed instantly or caught in the fireball and burned to death? How many people have we lost here today?_

She knew the number of injured was high, there were quite a few labs in this section of the city as the main tower was mostly used for accommodation. Carson's sickbay was practically overflowing with injured personnel; it was so bad that the amiable Scotsman had called in everyone with even basic medical training to assist him. But she did not yet know how many people they had lost to the mystery blast that had started the incredibly intense fire. A fire that had taken the cities automatic systems and hurriedly assembled fire control teams nearly an hour to extinguish.

With a soft sigh Elizabeth started walking towards the damaged area, while trying to think what could have caused the blast that had killed or injured so many of her people. None of the labs in this part of the city contained anything that could be detonated easily as far as she knew. These labs were mostly devoted to technological analysis and carefully controlled experimentation. As far as she was aware there was nothing in this tower that could blow up, let alone cause such a ferocious inferno.

As she walked Elizabeth's thoughts took on a dark turn as she began to wonder could this blast have been sabotage, had someone, somehow managed to do the impossible and plant a bomb in the city. That was not a pleasant thought as where there had been one bomb there could be more, and they could be planted in critical locations throughout the city. How many more fiery explosions were they in for? Elizabeth made a mental note to speak with Colonels Sheppard and Caldwell about organising a thorough sweep of the whole city for anything suspicious. It would be a search that would take a while, there were so few of them here compared to the vastness of Atlantis.

And then there were the paintings that Daniel Jackson and Vala Mal Doran had found in New York. Paintings that from the descriptions she'd read eerily showed this scenario. The external damage to Atlantis was eerily like the descriptions she'd read. She'd already had a jumper take external photos of the damage to the outside of the city, photos that she had sent copies of back to Earth for comparison against the paintings, assuming the SGC and IOA managed to acquire them for the New York gallery. _How did that artist know this was going to happen,_ she thought, _how did he or she even know what Atlantis looks like? Hopefully the SGC will get some answers; they will be fascinating to read._

Elizabeth was drawn out of her thoughts about the paintings and the implied security breach by the fact that she was entering the damaged section of the city. The lingering stench of the fire got worse and she had to fight back the impulse to gag, the smell was so bad here and she knew it was probably only going to get worse the further in she went. Steeling herself for the sights that were bound to be ahead Elizabeth Weir walked deeper into the area, searching for either Radek Zelenka or Rodney McKay both of whom had taken charge of damage control teams. As she moved deeper evidence of damage became more and more obvious to her, the normally aesthetically beautiful copper coloured walls of the city with their inset panels and crystalline light fittings or decoration were blackened, caked in a thick layer of soot and few of the lights were still functioning.

Feeling a draft Elizabeth looked over at where a bay window would normally be to see it blown out, the crystalline matrix of the super-strong glass-like material having shattered in the intense heat of the fire and blown outwards. Fresh saline scented air was blowing in through the hole, though the normal energizing cleansing smells of Lantea's ocean were being quickly overpowered by the lingering stench of fire and death. With a soft sigh Elizabeth resumed walking noting how much heavier the soot encrustation got the further she walked.

Ahead of her she began hearing voices so she picked up her pace, ignoring the soft crunching sounds as she walked over some bits of debris. There was increasing evidence now of actual damage not just smoke and soot damage. Many of the walls had scorch marks and blistering where the intense heat of the inferno had started to melt the inner walls, walls that were made mostly of trinium mixed with carbon. Seeing the evidence of metal starting to buckle and melt Elizabeth couldn't help but frown as it showed how intense the fire had been. Trinium hade a very high tolerance to both extreme heat and extreme cold, for their to be signs that it had started to buckle indicated that the heat had been especially intense in this area.

Coming around a corner in the corridor Elizabeth came upon one of the damage control teams. This one being led by Radek Zelenka and composed of the Czech scientist, three other scientists and engineers, Teyla and an escort of three Atlantis security personnel headed by Major Lorne. With the frighteningly real possibility that the fire and explosion had been the result of a bomb or sabotage Colonel Sheppard had insisted on the damage control/assessment teams be provided with an armed escort. A precaution that Elizabeth could understand and had agreed with though if there was a saboteur it was unlikely he or she would try anything so soon after the bombing. Still if there was one thing that the Pegasus Galaxy had taught the people of the Atlantis expedition it was to expect the unexpected.

At that moment Zelenka spotted her. "Doctor Weir," he called out his English as always sounding quite exotic thanks to his strong accent. "Doctor Weir I didn't expect to see you here," Radek continued as he and his team moved over to join Atlantis' leader.

"I wanted to see the damage for myself," Elizabeth replied. "Its one thing to just hear reports on the radio, quite another to come out here and see it, I wanted to get a feel of how bad it is. So I came out here."

"Is that wise, ma'am," Major Lorne asked not very happy about Doctor Weir having come out here. With the damage to this section and the possibility of secondary explosive devices – if indeed a bomb had caused this – this section of the city was far from safe. If something were to happen to Elizabeth then Evan Lorne knew that Colonel Sheppard would have his head. _Though he would have to catch me first,_ Evan thought to himself with an internal smile as he knew Sheppard would never be able to do that, unless he allowed him to, which he probably would if anything happened to Elizabeth. Like many of the long term members of the expedition team he had come to like and respect Dr Weir – the civilian diplomat had proven herself a fair and strong leader who was not afraid to make difficult and often painful decisions – he didn't want to see her hurt, though he also knew that she had a stubborn streak to match Colonel Sheppard's, if she wanted to stay out here then there would be little he could do to change her mind.

"It might not be wise, major," Elizabeth replied. "But I need to see for myself. Doctor Zelenka would you mind terribly if I joined your party for awhile?"

"Not at all," Radek answered though he was inwardly less than happy about the thought of Elizabeth being potentially at risk. They would be going into areas of the tower where there was structural damage – some of it quite significant – the risk of any of them getting hurt was quite high. He didn't really want to risk injury to Doctor Weir, but one glance told him her mind was made up and he knew better than to argue with her.

"Thank you," Elizabeth replied moving in to join the party, taking up position next to Teyla. Teyla nodded politely at her, she understood one leader to another why Elizabeth had come out here. Why she wanted and needed to see the aftermath of the explosion that had killed and injured so many for herself, had their positions been reversed Teyla would be doing the same thing. Elizabeth smiled back, she could tell that Teyla knew and understood why she was out there, the kingship between herself and the exotically beautiful Athosian leader showing itself once again.

At that moment Radek made a gesture and the team began moving again, picking there way through the debris from the fire, heading for where the blast was believed to have originated. As he walked Major Lorne moved up a little bit closer to Doctor Weir so he could protect her if needs be, he still wasn't happy about her being here but was now resigned to it. Yet he couldn't escape the feeling that something was going to happen soon. Something that involved Doctor Weir but what and how he didn't know. _I'll just have to keep my guard up and protect her as best as I can,_ Lorne thought, _hopefully Doctor Weir will have enough of these grim surroundings and return to the safety of the main tower._

But somehow he didn't think that was going to happen anytime soon. No he didn't think it was going to happen at all.

* * *

**Stargate Command**

**Cheyenne** **Mountain, Earth**

**That Same Time**

The first thing that Daniel Jackson noticed when he arrived in the familiar confines of the briefing room was the atmosphere. The atmosphere was charged with tension, which was not an uncommon occurrence these days with the ongoing war with seemingly unstoppable forces of the Ori, but the tension felt different this time. It was mixed with something else, something akin to shock and disbelief with a heavy amount of concern mixed in.

The next thing that Daniel noticed was that the rest of SG-1 were present, he was the last to arrive as always. But the other four members of SG-1 were not the only ones in the room with them. General Landry was present in his normal place at the head of the table, with him was the ever annoying Mr Woolsey, two people in black suits that he guessed were NID agents, and surprisingly General Jack O'Neill.

"Daniel nice of you to join us," Jack said in greeting smiling at his old friend and his typically late arrival. In all the years that he had known and worked with Daniel, Jack had only known him to be on time for briefings on a handful of occasions.

"Thanks, Jack," Daniel replied as he sat down. "So I'm guessing we're all gathered here to discuss the paintings myself and Vala saw in our abortive visit to New York."

"Yes," Woolsey replied. "We have been able to acquire the paintings of Atlantis from the gallery on national security grounds; they have been taken to a secure location until we can decide what to do with them."

"That's good but something else has happened hasn't it," Daniel said. "I can hear it in your voice."

"Your right something else has happened," General Landry said. "A few hours ago there was an explosion in Atlantis."

Gasps erupted from most of those assembled in the room, especially from the members of SG-1 though both air force generals, Woolsey and the NID personnel were silent. They already knew about the explosion, though only General Landry and Mr Woolsey knew the exact details of what had happened, and how it related to the paintings.

"Are they okay," Daniel asked just beating Sam to it.

"Casualties are quite heavy," Landry replied. "We don't k now the exact number of dead or wounded yet, nor do we know the cause of the explosion. Though we do know that Atlantis has sustained considerable damage to one of the central towers from both the explosion and the following fire.

"But here is where it really starts to get interesting," Landry continued to his enthralled audience. "Preliminary photos of the damage taken from a puddle jumper have been sent back from Atlantis via the midway station. A copy of one of the photos and one of the paintings is in the folders in front of you all. What you will see is surprising, incredible and disturbing to say the least."

Carefully Daniel reached out and took the folder that was laid out for him, removed the seal and opened it, noticing out the corner of his eyes everyone else doing the same thing. Adjusting his glasses slightly with one hand he scanned the images and gasped in shock. On the right hand side was the fifth and final of the paintings of Atlantis, the one showing the hole in the side of one of the central towers. On the left hand side was a high resolution digital photograph that had obviously been shot from the cockpit of a puddle jumper, you could just see part of the controls at the very bottom of the shot. But it was what else that was in the image that stunned Daniel.

The image showed a hole in the side of one of Atlantis' central towers. A hole in the side of the same tower that the painting showed as having been holed. Though the perspectives were slightly different Daniel could tell that the hole was in exactly the same position as the one on the painting and it looked to be exactly the same size as well. It was almost as if the artist had known what was going to happen.

"This cannot be right," Samantha Carter said. Daniel looked up from the file to see Sam had an absolutely astounded look on her face. "The painting and the photograph are identical in almost every way. But that cant be right, its got to be a trick of the light or a miss print of the photo."

"It is quite correct Colonel Carter," Mr Woolsey said. "There are several other images shot from various angles and all show the hole in the side of Atlantis' number three central tower in exactly the same position as the hole in the painting."

"The artist knew what was going to happen," Cameron Mitchell said, his voice stunned.

"Precognition is impossible," Sam objected. "There is no way for anyone to know the future, it's a scientific impossibility."

"People would have said that about wormholes, hyperspace and life-force draining aliens a few years ago, Sam," Daniel pointed out. "Yet now we know they exist in the forms of the Wraith and the Iratus bug. Then there is ascension, existing as pure energy and thought, most people would say that's impossible but we both know its perfectly possible."

"Good point," Sam admitted. "But precognition should be impossible; everything we know about temporal physics prevents it. And then there is the question of how the artist whoever he or she is knew what Atlantis looked like in the first place."

"It's a he," Jack said, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

"What's a he, General O'Neill," Mr Woolsey asked.

"The artist who made the painting, it's a man," Jack replied. "I've seen this artwork before, many times."

"Where," Woolsey asked, his voice cracking like a whip.

Jack fixed Woolsey with a glare for a moment that made him fidget uncomfortably for a moment before he answered. "In a comic book that I subscribe to," Jack answered, at the disbelieving looks he got off everyone in the room he grinned. "So I read comic books, sue me. Nothing wrong with reading comics is there?"

"No, Jack there isn't," Daniel replied not at all surprised to learn that Jack read comic books in addition to being a die-hard trekkie. Somehow the fact that Jack read comics at his age suited him.

"If you recognise the artwork then you know who the artist is, would you mind telling us general," one of the NID agents investigating the security breach on behalf of the IOA asked.

"Yeah I've met the guy once," Jack answered. "The guys name is Mendez, Issac Mendez. I think he's based in New York but I cannot be sure."

For a moment there was silence. "Well at least we now have a name for the artist in question," Woolsey said. "It should be relatively easy to find out where this guy lives in New York – if that's where indeed he is, then we can ask him some very pointed questions."

"I would like SG-1 to be present when Mr Mendez is questioned about Atlantis," General Landry said. "After all it was Daniel and Vala who found the paintings, its only right that they at least be present when we find out how Mr Mendez knew about Atlantis, and how he apparently painted the future."

Woolsey and both NID agents scowled at General Landry's words. This breach of the Stargate programs security fell under the jurisdiction of the IOA and NID not Stargate Command. True before the formation of the IOA and back when The Trust had still had operatives inside the NID the SGC had routinely investigated security breaches. From one perspective Woolsey could see why General Landry wanted SG-1 to be a part of this, but from another he was irritated by the insistence. As it smacked of the military trying to overstep the bounds set for it in the negotiations that had set up the International Oversight Authority to supervise the activities of both Stargate Command and the Atlantis Expedition.

"That will be up to the IOA," Woolsey replied at last, his voice calm but they could all clearly here his irritation, hidden behind a façade of polite diplomacy. "I will ask them if they will permit the presence of SG-1 and let you know what they say."

"That's all that I can ask," Landry answered inwardly scowling. _Those damned, heel dragging bureaucrats are bound to delay our quest to find answers about this situation,_ he thought, _and I can't do a damned thing about it._ While he understood the wisdom of having the IOA about – especially as the other four members of the UN Security Council now knew of the Stargate and the Ancient outpost in Antarctica, and had personnel involved in all programs – there were times when they – and their mouthpiece Mr Woolsey – irritated the hell out of him. Now was one of those times.

"Is that everything on this issue?" Jack asked making a mental note to intervene with the IOA if necessary and get SG-1 access. There were no responses to his question, everything they knew so far about this urgent security issue had been discussed. "Alright then lets move on to our next bit of business," Jack continued. "Hank I believe we have received fresh reports on the movements of Ori forces."

"That's right, Jack we have," Landry replied picking up another report folder and opening it. He took a sip from a glass next to the reports then began detailing the latest intelligence that they had received about the seemingly relentless advance of the near-invincible Ori.

* * *

**Atlantis**

**Ten Minutes Later**

Elizabeth sighed as she viewed the devastation of the tower, the structural and fire damage to the corridors and rooms she had so far seen, brought back unhappy memories. Memories of a time she had been unfortunate to see the damage done to a city district in Beirut years ago not long after she had arrived with a United Nations delegation in an attempt to stop a civil war destroying Lebanon, a war that would have spilled beyond Lebanon's boarders to set the whole of the middle east on fire, potentially starting a third world war. For a moment seeing the scorched and twisted metal and with the lingering stench of fire and death Elizabeth could have almost been in that troubled region of Earth again as opposed to a city billions of light years away.

Walking besides Elizabeth Teyla could see that her friend and the fellow leader she had come to respect and in many ways admire was troubled. Teyla could understand why, seeing this damage to the City of the Ancestors was deeply disturbing, deeply distressing, and the horrible smells only made it worse. But from the look in Elizabeth's eyes Teyla could tell that she was seeing more than the damage to Atlantis, she was seeing something else as well, ghosts of her own past.

"Are you alright, Elizabeth," she asked concerned.

"I'm fine, Teyla," Elizabeth replied, blinking to banish the ghosts of Beirut back to where they belonged. "Just seeing this, smelling death this way again brings back some unpleasant memories, memories I would have rather stayed buried."

"You have seen scenes like this before," Teyla asked.

"More times than I have cared to," Elizabeth admitted.

Teyla nodded, she guessed as much as she knew that before coming here to this galaxy and to Atlantis Elizabeth had been a diplomat. A diplomat who had been often sent to different trouble spots on Earth to calm things down and make people see sense. Teyla could not imagine what that was like, having lived on a world whose people were so fractured, split into different nationalities and ethnic groups. But then again given human nature she could see how without the unifying influence of star travel through the Stargates and the threat of the Wraith that could happen.

Before she could begin to reply however they came around a corner and entered the most severely damaged section of the tower. Here more debris littered the floor than anywhere else, metal walls were shattered and bowing inwards where the heat of the inferno had started melting them. Panels were open exposing scorched, blackened crystal circuits that would probably never function again. Sections of the ceiling panels had fallen, laying at odd angles the metal twisted, scorched and useless and even now still radiating residual heat. Support girders normally hidden out of sight behind composite panels were clearly visible, some hanging down from the ceiling at very precarious angles and looking like they could fall completely at any time.

"We'll have to be careful from here onwards," Radek said from the front. "The structural integrity of this part of this tower has been seriously compromised. Everybody be careful where you're walking and be on your guard."

One by one the members of the team – Elizabeth included – nodded there understanding, the last thing any of them wanted was to be injured or killed in an accident and add to toll of blood that the people of Atlantis had already paid today. Radek smiled and whispered something in his native language before beginning to lead them into the most damaged section of the tower.

They didn't have to struggle through the badly damaged hallway for very long, after a short while it came to an end, broadening out into a large open space. A space that had been used as a small common area, where staff from the labs on each side could come and relax or hold meetings on a variety of chairs facing each other or facing the large window out at the rest of the city. Though naturally there was nothing left in the common area now, the chairs and couches reduced to twisted metal frames, all upholstery gone, the wooden tables were gone completely as were the potted plants that had tastefully brightened up the area. The window was gone as well, and was letting in a strong breeze that carried enough of a saline scent to weaken the stench of burnt things.

The lab on the right hand side of the room was obviously the lab where the explosion had occurred, where the tremendous fireball that had killed so many had been spawned. The labs door – scorched and twisted to the point that it was barely recognisable – lay on the far side of the room from it, blasted off its running track and thrown clear by a tremendous concussive force. The lab beyond the doorway was just gone, reduced to a shattered gutted ruin, its far wall gone leaving nothing but a gaping hole in the cities outer wall.

"Here's where the blast came from," Radek said, taking off his backpack and taking out some instruments. "Let's get started on seeing where exactly the explosion originated and what caused it."

"Its obvious it's going to be a bomb," Major Lorne pointed out.

"That is possible, but it could be something else. We will soon know either way," Radek said. "Even with there having been such an intense fire any explosives involved would have left behind a chemical fingerprint for us to find."

Lorne nodded and watched as Radek started examining the blown out edges of the door frame, while two of the other scientists went into the gutted lab to start doing their own examination. For her part Elizabeth started walking around the common area, and wondering how many lab techs had been in here when the blast occurred. How many would have seen the fireball bursting out of the one lab to engulf them all? The horror they must have felt a moment before they were engulfed in flames grated on her. _How did this happen,_ she thought, _why did it happen?_

A flash of colour under the uniformly black debris caught her attention and she looked down. Digging down through the still warm debris Elizabeth found that it was a book, a book someone must have been reading. Amazingly it was still more or less intact, though the edges of the pages were charred. _Extraordinary this survived,_ she thought in amazement, _I would have thought that it would have been completely destroyed in the fire._

Abruptly the sound of tortured metal groaning and snapping caught her attention, especially as it was coming from right above her head. Elizabeth stood up and looked up to see that the ceiling was completely gone, she could see right up into the network of support girders for the level above. Many of them were loose now and hanging down, as she watched one of the support girders – its mounting brackets warped and weakened – broke free of the others and started to fall towards her. She tried to move, tried to run to safety, but she couldn't she was paralysed watching the girder falling towards her. She opened her mouth to emit a reflexive, terrified scream…

* * *

When the sound of metal groaning and snapping reached his ears Major Evan Lorne span around, like everyone else to see what was going on. He watched horrified as a heavy girder that was no doubt made of trinium came free of the damaged ceiling and start to plummet downwards. Right towards where Doctor Weir was standing, the heavy girder would kill her for sure on impact. _No,_ _not her as well,_ Evan thought. 

Without even realising what he was doing he started moving, throwing his P90 rifle aside and starting to run towards Elizabeth, to carry her out of harms way. As he started moving he felt a familiar shift in his perceptions of the world, time seemed to slow down to a virtual crawl, the horrified gasps of the others as they realised they were about to see Elizabeth die sounding strange as they slowed down. The only one who seemed to still be moving at a normal speed as far as he was concerned was himself. But Evan knew that was only an illusion, in reality he was just moving faster than the world around him. He knew he was now revealing a secret he had kept for many years, a secret only Doctor Beckett knew about, but he didn't care. He had to save Doctor Weir, Atlantis could not afford to loose her.

Reaching Elizabeth's position he swept her up in his arms and raced to the other side of the room with her. Then he stopped and time seemed to speed back up again, the girder hitting the deck with a loud clang of metal on metal.

* * *

…when something incredibly fast moving grabbed her and carried her away. What would have been a scream turned into a shocked gasp as she suddenly found herself on the opposite side of the room. In the arms of Major Evan Lorne. 

"Are you alright, ma'am," Lorne asked putting her down.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied her legs shaking. "How?"

"It's a long story, ma'am," Lorne answered looking at Weir and everyone else to see they were all gaping at him in absolute astonishment. _Smart move, Evan,_ he told himself. "Ugh I guess I have some explaining to do here."

"That you do, major," Elizabeth said. "That you do."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Doctor Radek Zelenka stared at Major Lorne in a mixture of stunned shock, total amazement and scientific curiosity. He couldn't believe what he had just witnessed, what he had seen Lorne do. One moment he had been standing almost next to him, the next that girder had started to fall and Lorne just moved. Crossing the room as a blur of motion, moving far faster than any human being should be able to move, to save Doctor Weir from certain death. From the look he could see on the major's face he knew precisely what he had done.

"How did you do that," he asked, the scientist in him coming out of its shock and begging to wonder how it could be possible for a man – if that was what Lorne was – to move at such incredible speed. It went against a number of the laws of physics as he understood them, there was simply no way he knew of for a human body to generate or be able to withstand such abrupt acceleration and deceleration.

"That is what I would like to know," Elizabeth Weir agreed looking at Evan Lorne almost as if she had never seen him before. Indeed he did look to be a different person now, though he looked the same as he had always looked. But it was like some invisible mask had been removed and she was now seeing new depths to the man, the man beneath the military uniform.

"As I said it's a long story," Lorne replied. "I've been able to do that for years, ever since I was fifteen, but I've rarely shown it to anyone."

"What was that," Teyla asked curiously, intrigued by this new facet of Major Lorne that had just been revealed to them. Though she had been to many worlds in this galaxy, seen many different peoples, she had never encountered anyone who could do anything like what the major had just done. Having met a few of the Ancestors briefly in the crew of the _Tria_ she suspected that the ability to move so fast was beyond even them.

Lorne smiled softly. "Superhuman speed, Teyla," he replied.

"You mean you're like a real life version of The Flash," Doctor Jordan Pierce asked, coming out of the ruined lab having seen what happened from the door. Pierce's eyes were bright with excitement as The Flash had been his favourite comic book character since he was a little kid. To meet a real life version was like a dream come true to the engineer and geneticist.

Lorne laughed. "I guess you could say that," he said. "But unlike him I don't look any good in spandex."

Laughter rippled through the members of the team that were from Earth, Elizabeth especially couldn't help but laugh hysterically at the mental image of Lorne in red spandex that suddenly popped into her head. Teyla for her part merely looked confused, guessing that The Flash and spandex were something to with Earth culture.

"Who is The Flash," she asked.

"He's a comic book character, Teyla," Lorne replied smiling. "I'll tell you about him later."

Teyla nodded, she would make a point of finding Major Lorne later and asking about this The Flash, she was sure the answer would fascinate and also confuse her. The culture of the extra-galactic humans that made up the Atlantis expedition team – with the exception of herself and Ronan – often did that to her. Even having spent nearly three years with them there was so much about Earth people that she just didn't understand. Having not had to suffer with the Wraith their society had evolved in some truly bizarre and amazing ways compared to the ones she was used to dealing with.

"So major how is it you can you do what you can do," Pierce asked.

Lorne shrugged. "I just can doc," he replied grinning. "Its something to do with a weird gene I have but how it works is beyond me. I just know that I've got this ability, it's always been inside of me. I've learned to control and use it when I have to but that's about it."

"Amazing and you've never asked yourself how you can do it?"

"Of course I have. But I don't know how to really answer the question, I can do this thing, it's controllable and there when I need it, that's all I really want and need to know," Lorne replied. "That and there are others like me out there."

"There are other people with superpowers?" Pierce asked, eyes alight with scientific curiosity, his mind already beginning to work on theories that could explain the existence of real life superpowers.

Before Lorne could reply Doctor Weir spoke up. "As fascinating as this discussion is sure to become this is not the time or the place for it," she said. "Let's continue with the mission we came to this part of the city to carry out, finding out the cause of the explosion that has killed and injured so many of our colleagues." One by one everyone nodded, Radek, Pierce and that other two scientists looking a little guilty as they had let there sudden fascination with Major Lorne revealing superpowers take precedence over their original mission. But Elizabeth was not finished.

"We will return to the issue of your powers, Major," she said addressing Lorne this time. "I am curious as to how you can do what you can do, though I can understand why you have never said anything about this before. But for now we have a job to do, so let's do it."

"Yes, ma'am," everyone chorused almost in unison before turning around to continue doing what they had been starting to do before the girder had started to fall and forced Major Lorne to reveal his superhuman speed.

Lorne for his part sighed softly to himself and walked over to where his P90 had landed when he'd tossed it aside. _Well that wasn't to badly received,_ he thought to himself as he picked up the rifle, _at least they didn't run away from me or try and lock me up,_ t_hough they could still decide to do that._ Inwardly he sighed to himself and took up his guard station again, ignoring the still shocked looks he was getting off the marines that he'd been placed in charge of by Colonel Sheppard. Whatever happened next, whatever the consequences were of him revealing his powers he would face them. He wasn't sorry that he had done what he did. Because of him Doctor Weir was still alive and uninjured when she would have otherwise certainly perished. He had done his job, his duty and protected her. At the end of the day that was all that really mattered to him.

* * *

**A Few Hours Later**

Major Evan Lorne sat alone near the edge of Atlantis south western pier watching as Lantea's sun slowly sank below the horizon, bringing this day to a close. A day that had seen a lot of death and pain for the people of Atlantis, so many of them had lost friends and colleagues today. It was casting a sombre, subdued mood throughout the entire city, no one really wanted to do anything tonight – tonight was normally movie night but that had been cancelled as a mark of respect to the dead – everyone was on their own dealing with their own thoughts, their own pain.

But not him, though like everyone else he felt the pain of today's losses. His thoughts kept drifting back to what had happened in the tower and the revealing of his powers to the population of Atlantis – he had no doubt once their melancholy mood lifted the soldiers and scientists who'd been there would talk about it and with the grapevine it would be all over the city in a day or two. He had focused on continuing with doing his duty back in the tower in the hour to two hours they had spent there afterwards as Zelenka and the scientists had carried out a detailed forensic investigation, but now his anxiety about what could happen next returned full force. Doctor Weir had scheduled a major staff meeting for tomorrow morning; a meeting he knew would be about both the investigation into the cause of the blast and his superhuman abilities. And he didn't know how everyone was going to react, especially his direct military superior Colonel Sheppard.

The sound of footsteps – almost lost in the muffled roaring of waves breaking against Atlantis' piers – approaching reached his sensitive ears. He didn't look back to see who it was, it was pretty much a given who it was. There was only one person in the whole of Atlantis who knew he came out here when he wanted to think or just wanted to unwind. After all there was no one in the buildings in this sector of the city, no one to see him should he decide to burn off some energy or frustration by running around at super speed.

After a moment the person in question sat down next to him with a soft sigh of relief. A sigh that to Lorne's ears sounded tired, something he could well understand as his friend had had a very busy day today.

"You look like you could use a friend, Evan," Carson Beckett said. Lorne glanced over at him and smiled softly. He immediately noticed how tired and drained Carson looked, even more than you would have expected even with Carson having been literally run off his feet by a flood of wounded today. _But then he doesn't just see the physical pain of the casualties,_ Evan reminded himself, remembering what Carson own hidden superhuman ability was, _he feels it and the emotional agony as well._

"I could, Carson," he admitted. "What about you are you okay? Given what it must have been like for you especially today."

Carson brushed his concern off, though inwardly he was deeply touched by it. "I'm alright," Carson answered. "I won't say that it was pleasant because it wasn't all that pain all that anguish. I've been in emergency situations before as a doctor, dealt with large numbers of casualties but sensing the emotions never gets easier."

Carson looked carefully at his friend, enjoying the total lack of emotions coming from him to batter his already weakened mental shields. Evan Lorne was the only person in Atlantis that he couldn't read; why that was Carson didn't know for sure, but even without being able to sense his emotions he could tell from the look on Evan's face and in his eyes that he was bothered by something.

"What's bothering you, Evan," he asked.

Lorne looked at Carson in surprise. "I thought you couldn't sense my emotions," he said.

"I can't but I can tell you're bothered by something," Carson answered, his natural concern for other people, even before his abilities had mysteriously manifested themselves a few years ago it had been there, coming to the fore. "What is it?"

Lorne sighed. "Something happened in the tower I was in, Carson," he explained. "The damaged one, I was put in a position where I had to reveal what I can do. If I hadn't then Doctor Weir would have been killed."

Carson's eyes widened slightly in surprise at that, he knew Evan would have never revealed his super speed unless he absolutely had to do so. Using it to save someone from certain death was in his nature, that it had been Elizabeth made it even more personal, but what had happened in that tower for him to reveal his ability.

"What happened," he asked.

"A support girder damaged by the explosion and the following fire fell right towards Doctor Weir," Lorne replied. "You know those girders are solid trinium, it would have killed her for sure. There was no one close enough to save her but me, so I super speeded over, swept her up in my arms and moved to the other side of the room. Doctor Zelenka and the rest of the team saw me do it, and there curious as hell about me now. I have no doubt its going to come up in tomorrow mornings staff meeting."

"No doubt it will. And you're worried how people are going to react to it?"

"Yes. What if they decide I'm a security threat and decide to lock me up?"

"I doubt that's going to happen," Carson said putting as much conviction into his voice as he could manage. "In fact I'm sure it's not going to happen, Evan. Elizabeth would never allow that to happen, neither would Colonel Sheppard, unless I really don't know them."

"How can you be sure, Carson," Lorne asked. "Being able to read emotions is not like being able to read thoughts."

"You're right its not, but I can be sure, I've known them both long enough to really get to know there characters," Carson answered. "Though they'll be shocked I very much doubt they will do anything more than ask you a few questions."

"Doctor Pierce already started doing that in the tower," Lorne said, then smiled as he remembered who Pierce had compared him to. "You know he compared me to The Flash," he added struggling and failing not to laugh.

Carson laughed. "Well you do have to admit that there are similarities between the two of you," he said.

"True. But I can't go a supersonic speeds like he could," Lorne added grinning and struggling not to laugh again. "And I don't dress up in a campy red spandex jumpsuit."

As Lorne spoke an absolutely hilarious image came into Carson's head. The image of Evan Lorne dressed up as The Flash, red spandex and all. Like Elizabeth before him Carson couldn't help but laugh his head off.

"What?" Lorne asked.

"Nothing just an image that came into my head," Carson replied. At the confused look he gained off Lorne he explained. "I saw you dressed up as the Flash, arms folded over your chest looking stern like you'd just caught someone doing something they shouldn't have been doing." Lorne looked at him oddly for a moment, and then started to snigger, before laughing at the hysterical notion. He had to admit the mental image was downright hilarious.

"Your right it is a bit hilarious," he said, the humour of the thought pushing aside his uneasiness and anxiety. But only for a moment, as the humour faded away the anxiety returned full force, settling over him like a smothering blanket. "But it doesn't change anything does it? They could lock me up as a security risk; considering I could be in any section in Atlantis in a few moments. If I wanted to plant a bomb somewhere in the city I could do it, and considering that there has been a mysterious explosion that could well have been a bomb…"

"…they could suspect you of planting the bomb if that's what it was," Carson replied. "Though I've been doing tests, if they start looking for other people like us then they are going to end up locking up a considerable number of people."

"What do you mean, Carson," Lorne asked, then his eyes widened as he realised what Carson was saying. "There are more of us in Atlantis aren't there, more people with superhuman abilities."

"Yes there are, Evan," Carson answered. "I've found at least seven with the genetic profiles like ours but none of them seem to even be active yet, though that could change at anytime mainly because no one knows how the superpowers manifested let alone why or when..."

"So they could end up with their own powers at any time," Lorne said grinning. "So who are they? Or can't you tell me."

"Nope I can't, doctor/patient confidentiality you know," Carson replied.

"I guessed as much," Lorne answered, though he couldn't help but wonder who the others of their kind in the city were. The curiosity about who they could be and what their powers could be began to replace his anxiety for tomorrow's meeting, pushing it right to the back of his mind where it wouldn't bother him.

"It would be interesting to find out what there powers are as there is no way to know," Lorne said turning to look out at the setting sun, Carson's gaze followed the young Major's making himself as comfortable as possible he stared out to sea as he watched Lantea's sun drop below the horizon.

"Aye, it would be at that Evan, it would be at that."


	6. Chapter 6

Authors Note: This is going to be the last chapter for about two weeks as I'll be going away for close on to a week next Saturday and will have limited or no access to the internet.

**

* * *

Chapter Six**

**JFK Airport**

**New York City**

**Next Morning**

Colonel Cameron Mitchell blinked as bright morning sunshine shone right in his face as he climbed down out of the air force private chartered flight that had brought him, the rest of SG-1 and a pair of NID agents to New York. After General O'Neill had identified the painter of those eerie prophetic paintings the NID had rapidly tracked down the whereabouts of Issac Mendez, ironically his studio was only a few blocks from the gallery where his paintings of Atlantis had been put on display.

"Whoa bright light," Cameron said shielding his eyes from the bright glare of the early autumn sunshine.

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed in his normal deadpanned manner as he descended to the ground himself. "How are we to get into the city to see Mr Mendez?"

"There should be a car here waiting for us, Teal'c," Daniel replied coming down and looking around and seeing nothing but the airport, there was no sign of the car that was supposed to meet them here. "Obviously it's been delayed, presumably by one of the infamous New York traffic jams."

"Which means we could be stuck here awhile," Vala muttered from behind him, shuddering as she remembered there last experience of New York traffic at its worst. It was not an experience she cared to repeat. Too many encounters with that kind of mind numbing boredom would drive her insane; she didn't see how the people of this world put up with it. _They probably don't get a lot of choice in the matter,_ she thought to herself, _still to put up with it they must be capable of occasional almost superhuman levels of patience._

"I do not believe so, Miss Mal Doran," Teal'c replied squinting slightly into the rippling heat haze rising from the tarmac. "A vehicle is approaching."

"Good," Cameron said. "Maybe we will soon get some answers from Mr Mendez on how he knew about Atlantis."

Everyone nodded in agreement. After the NID representative on the board of the International Oversight Authority had reported that Issac Mendez had been located, there had been a brief period of argument. Some members of the IOA especially Mr Woolsey had wanted the questioning of Issac to be done entirely by the NID at the behest of the IOA but they had been at the same time under pressure from both the Pentagon and President Hayes to allow Stargate Command to be present in the investigation. After all it had been two members of SG-1 that had discovered the security breach in the first place. After a few hours of heated debate a compromise had been struck, SG-1 could be present as long as they did not interfere with the actions of the NID agents investigating the case.

"We can but hope," Daniel replied as the car pulled up. Somehow he was not surprised to find that the driver was once again Airman Dave Turner, though he was in uniform this time as opposed to civilian clothing. The uniform seemed to suit him that much better.

One by one they all climbed into the large people carrier that they would be using. After they all fastened there seatbelts Airman Turner got the car moving again.

As the car began moving Daniel looked out at the airport and the skyscraper dominated skyline of New York beyond it. Soon they would be driving amongst those great structures of steel, concrete and glass, heading for what would hopefully be an insightful conversation with one Issac Mendez. Yet as they made their way out of the airport he began to get the strangest feeling, a feeling that they were on the edge of something, some tremendous revelation that could change everything.

Quite what it was Daniel had no idea, all he knew was that something, something buried deep in his mind, left over from his time as an ascended being told him that they were heading for something momentous, something that was somehow linked with Issac Mendez. _Whatever it is we will soon find out,_ he thought.

* * *

**Atlantis**

**That Same Time**

Major Evan Lorne felt like there were rattlesnakes performing a mating dance in his stomach as he made his way to the briefing room. It had been along time since he had felt this anxious about anything; in fact he couldn't recall the last time he had felt this way.

The nervous anxiety was only getting worse the closer he got to the old Ancient council chamber that now served as the briefing/conference room for the expedition team. As the entrance to the room came into view he felt a cold, nervous sweat begin to prickle its way down his spine. He was now only a few moments from the staff meeting where one of the subjects of discussion was going to be the superhuman abilities that he had revealed so dramatically yesterday when he had saved Dr Weir from otherwise certain death. He didn't regret doing that at all, it had been the right thing to do, but he couldn't help but worry about how everyone would react when they learned what he could do. And despite his talk with Carson yesterday – the only other person in this whole galaxy who could really understand him – he couldn't help but deep down fear the worst. That the senior staff of Atlantis would want to lock him up as a threat to the cities security, or worse lock him up and then poke and prod him to see what made him tick.

The fear that they would do that to him, lock him up like a human lab rat was irrational. Lorne knew it was he knew that Dr Weir and the rest of the senior staff were far too moral for that. But try as he might he couldn't shake off the fear, instead it seemed to grow like a cancer, the fear feeding and building upon itself. It infected him like a virulent disease, tearing at his mind, bringing forth a feeling that he should turn and run away, run away as fast as he could go. _Stop it, Evan,_ the rational part of his mind told him firmly. _You're a man and a soldier in the United States Air Force wanting to run away from the coming meeting like a naughty schoolboy doesn't suit you. Face whatever happens in their with pride, dignity and honour and remember you did a good thing yesterday, a very, very good thing._

Feeling himself calming slightly at the words of the rational part of his nature Lorne felt himself relax, only a little bit but it helped. Helped him push his fear for the future away under a soothing tide of rationality, he would face whatever happened in the briefing room, whatever the consequences of his action were with every bit of pride and dignity that he had.

The already open doors of the briefing room came into view and holding his head high and keeping his shoulders firmly set Lorne walked into the room. To find that he was one of the first members of the senior staff to arrive, with only Doctors Elizabeth Weir and Carson Beckett already present in the room.

"Good morning, Dr Weir," Lorne said in greeting. "Morning, Carson."

"Morning, Evan," Carson answered, before taking a sip from the steaming mug of coffee that was on the table in front of him.

"Good morning, major," Elizabeth Weir responded a moment later, giving Evan Lorne an accessing gaze. Though he was hiding it well she could tell that he was nervous about this meeting, or rather nervous about one part of it that would come later. She had not gotten to be such a good diplomat without having learned how to read what people were really feeling as much as any human could with just their eyes and instincts. She could understand why he was nervous, considering they would be talking about the superhuman abilities that he had hidden from the world until yesterday when he had saved her from death. She was fully aware that it must be taking a tremendous amount of courage to face them here today, especially as Rodney and the other scientists would probably bombard him with questions once the knowledge of what he could do was out in the open.

"There's coffee there if you want some," she added pointing to a side table where a gleaming chrome coffee machine had been set up.

"No thank you," Lorne replied sitting down in his normal seat. "I don't drink coffee that much as I find it gives me way too much energy that I have to somehow burn off."

"I take it you run to do that," Elizabeth asked.

Lorne shrugged. "Sometimes," he replied. "Other times I just give the weights or the punching bag in the gym what for. The punching bags especially don't fare very well if I really let go with them, then I sort of forget how fast I can go, though that doesn't usually happen unless I'm both alone and really pissed off."

"So that's what periodically happens to our punching bags," Elizabeth said. "Why they look like they've been through a war."

Lorne shrugged apologetically. "What can I say," he replied. "I don't mean to wreck them."

"Its okay, major," Elizabeth answered. "Everyone is entitled to let loose from time to time, your way just happens to show your abilities from time to time. I do wish I knew how you can do what you can do."

Lorne started to open his mouth to reply but stopped when Colonel Sheppard came into the room, with Teyla, Ronan and Rodney a few paces behind him. Lorne made himself sit up a bit straighter in his chair, burying the last of his anxiety with effort. It was far to late to get out of here now, even if he had wanted to – which he didn't as he would do his duty and face up to the consequences of his actions yesterday. He could only hope Carson was right and that he would only be asked a few questions about what he could do. He barely paid attention as greetings were exchanged, almost absently answering with a good morning whenever he was addressed.

Sheppard gave him a curious look, he could tell that something wasn't right with his second in command, that something was bothering him. He'd noticed it yesterday as well after Lorne had returned from the damaged tower. At the time he had assumed it was the result of all the death and destruction they had seen, lord knew he'd had battled his own demons when he had returned from one of the other damaged levels of the tower. But now he wasn't so sure, something was bothering Lorne that much was obvious.

"Are you alright, Lorne," Sheppard asked.

"I'm fine, sir," Lorne replied.

Sheppard scowled slightly not quite believing him, but he let it go for now, especially as the rest of the senior staff were starting to arrive, along with other members of the science staff who would be present at this meeting. One thing Sheppard did notice was the curious, expectant looks that both Dr Zelenka and Dr Pierce gave Lorne, like they were waiting for him to say something. Lorne met their gazes and silently communicated by the look in his eyes that they would get the answers they wanted soon enough. _Okay what is going on here,_ Sheppard thought, _what's going on between Zelenka, Pierce and Lorne._

Before he could start asking very pointed questions, Elizabeth spoke up. "Thank you all for coming," she said. "We have much to discuss this morning relating to the breach of our security, the explosion in the tower yesterday that has killed and injured so many of our friends and colleagues, plus other events in the tower after the blast and fire."

"What other events," Sheppard asked curiously, noticing out the corner of his eye Lorne flinch ever so slightly at Elizabeth's words. The events clearly involved him but how and what they were he had no idea.

"You will know soon enough, John," Elizabeth answered. "Let us begin with the most important issues, the security breach that has somehow allowed someone to paint images of Atlantis, images that are incredible prophetic. And yesterday's explosion and fire that seemed to follow the sequence of events shown in the paintings. Rodney, Dr Zelenka what have you discovered about the explosions cause."

"Very little," Radek Zelenka replied. "Analysis of the explosion sight indicates that there were two explosions within moments of each other. The epicentre of the blasts has revealed trace amounts of organic tissue that has someone survived the fire that followed the explosion. From the spread of organic residue I would say whoever it belongs to they were the source of the blast."

"Suicide bombers," Sheppard asked, shuddering remembering his assignment in Afghanistan after the destruction of the World Trade Centre. There and in Iraq suicide bombings by Islamic militants was a constant hazard.

"It is a possibility," Radek agreed.

"A frightening one as it could mean the breach of security is worse than we thought," Colonel Caldwell said.

"However there are a number of factors that don't fit with a suicide bombing," Rodney said. "I've been going over the data with Radek and something is odd, we cannot find any residual traces of an explosive material. Records salvaged from the damaged sensors in the section where the blast occurred report that two of the workers in that lab physically exploded from within."

"Wait, are you saying that the explosives were implanted inside the scientists," Teyla questioned.

"It has happened before," Rodney said. "The Goa'uld Nirti attempted to use such an implanted device to destroy Earths Stargate in its first year of operation. But I don't believe that it was a bomb in the conventional sense of the word. I believe that the very bodies of the two people involved were turned explosive."

"Please explain, Rodney," Elizabeth said after a moment of silence. Rodney nodded and glanced down at his electronic pad before looking up and beginning his explanation as to what he believed had been the cause of the scientist's deaths and the explosion that had injured and killed so many others.

With as much calm scientific detachment as he could manage, given the circumstances, Rodney with occasional help from Radek explained what he had found out. The two scientists in question had gone into one of the many Ancient labs that there were in the city and activated one of the devices there, against all established safety procedures for examination and testing of newly discovered Ancient technologies.

"The device was a weapons project that the Ancients briefly worked on during the war with the Wraith," Rodney explained using his PDA to bring up a schematic of the device on the briefing room monitor. "The device puts out a charged particle field that somehow creates explosive tumours inside the body, essentially turning a person into a living, breathing time bomb. The research was abandoned when the Ancients were unable to fine tune the field to only affect Wraith. As it was the field affected everyone it came in contact with Wraith, Human and Ancient."

"The reason we picked up no explosive residue," Radek added. "Is because this, thing, uses the natural chemical processes of the body to make an explosive, once enough of the altered body chemicals are gathered inside the tumour it explodes. From the simultaneous blasts we believe that the detonation of one triggered the detonation of the other. In the close confines of the lab the blast was focused and amplified."

"Where is this device now," Elizabeth asked inwardly shuddering at the thought of a device that could do that. Though the mechanics of the science were far beyond the understanding of Human science it would not have been beyond the science of the Ancients. Ancients, who had been desperate to do something, develop some weapon, to win their war with the seemingly endless Wraith hoards.

"Destroyed," Rodney replied. "It was in the lab in question, deactivated waiting to be examined in detail. Like the people in the room it did not survive the blast or the following fire."

"That's something then, it won't kill anyone else," Caldwell commented. "Now what about the security breach? I've spoken to a number of people on the _Daedalus_ and none of them know of anyone who would smuggle out images of the city for someone to paint."

"I'm not sure there has been a security breach now," Elizabeth admitted. "At least not the kind we've been thinking about. The artist – the latest information relayed from Earth indicates his name is Issac Mendez – has seemingly painted the explosion and fire here in the city days before it occurred. It's like he knew it was going to happen."

"Are you suggesting that the artist had some precognitive ability," Dr Pierce asked, eyes shining excitedly. At any other time he would have dismissed the notion as preposterous, an idea from bad science fiction, but given what Major Lorne had said and demonstrated yesterday with real life superhuman abilities he had to consider the precognition could well be possible.

"That's precisely what I'm saying," Elizabeth replied.

"That's preposterous," Radek objected. "Seeing the future is impossible."

"Not necessarily, Radek," Rodney said. "SG-1 has encountered it once before, if memory serves the Kelownan Jonas Quinn who was briefly a member of SG-1 once demonstrated precognitive abilities as the result of a small tumour in his brain."

"So this artist – whoever he or she is – could have a tumour in their brain," Sheppard asked. "Hell of a price to pay for being able to see the future."

"There is another possibility," Elizabeth said. "And it leads into another issue that we have to discuss, an amazing occurrence in the number three tower yesterday." As she spoke she noticed Major Lorne stiffen slightly knowing what was coming and obviously bracing himself for it.

"What only a few of us in this room know is I came very close to dying in that tower yesterday, I came within a hairs breadth of being crushed to death by a falling support girder," Elizabeth continued. "I was saved by Major Lorne who ran across the room in the blink of an eye and saved me."

"That's a relief," Sheppard answered, giving Lorne an approving, grateful look for saving Elizabeth. He didn't know what he would have done if Elizabeth had been killed. The look on his second in commands face however indicated that there was something else to this. "There's something more isn't there?"

"Yes, sir there is," Lorne answered before Elizabeth could. "When Dr Weir says I crossed the room in the blink of an eye she is speaking literally."

"No one can move that fast," Rodney objected.

"I can," Lorne replied, looking at the annoying Canadian scientist. "Has anyone in here read a book called Activating Evolution by the late Dr Chandra Suresh?"

"I have," Rodney admitted. "It's a bit preposterous as it says that some people have a unique genetic coding sequence that gives real life superhuman abilities."

"It is actually true, Doctor McKay," Lorne replied. "People with superhuman abilities do indeed exist, and I am one of them."

For a moment their was silence. "You've got superhuman abilities," Sheppard asked.

Lorne nodded. "I've had them since I was fifteen. I can move at what you would consider super speed, though for me when I move like that it just seems like the whole world just slows down," he answered.

"Impossible," Rodney objected. "Superhuman abilities are not possible in people from Earth yet, without artificial inducements or very sophisticated genetic manipulation that's way beyond the capabilities of our biotechnology."

"Its true, Rodney," Radek said. "I was there I saw what Major Lorne can do. As did Dr Pierce, Teyla and the marine detachment that was with us."

"I don't really understand how I can do what I can do," Lorne admitted. "Genetic science goes way over my head. I just know I can do it, I didn't ask for it and it did on half cause me a few problems when it first appeared, but it's my ability and there are others like me, who have these superpowers for lack of a better term."

"Why have you never said anything about this before," Sheppard asked looking at his second in a new light. He had thought he had known Lorne, even though the man was quite a private individual, but now that appeared that was not the case. If he had hidden his powers then what other secrets did he have? He couldn't help but feel slightly hurt that Lorne had never revealed his abilities to him; surely he had earned that much trust at least.

"Because it's a secret, sir," Lorne answered. "I've hidden it most of my life, few people have ever learned what I can do. One time just after my eighteenth birthday a pair of people came after me, they had somehow learned what I can do. Apparently they study and 'help' people like me for what purpose I have no clue. Thankfully I escaped them – it was the first time I've ever run at full speed – before they could do anything to me. Ironically worrying about them coming after me again resulted in me joining the military as opposed to going to art school. In that respect they did me a favour as the life they led me to choose is one that I love."

For a moment there was silence as all but one of the people in the room digested what they had just been told. The only one who didn't need to think about it was Carson Beckett as he'd known about The Company for sometime, though he had personally never encountered them as their operations were more or less restricted to North America and he'd spent almost his whole life in his native Scotland or in other parts of the United Kingdom – the first time he'd really left it was when the British government had assigned him to the medical/science staff studying the Ancient outpost in Antarctica. Finally it was Sheppard who broke the silence.

"So there are people out there who want to abduct people like you for their own purposes," he said to Lorne. Lorne nodded, sending a chill down Sheppard's spine, these people sounded as bad as The Trust in there own way. "I can see why you would hide your abilities then," he continued. "You mentioned that was the first time you ran at full speed, just out of curiosity how fast can you actually go?"

"I've never really clocked myself," Lorne admitted. "But its quick, I've been able to dodge bullets before."

"Cool," Sheppard said.

"This is a fascinating discussion but shouldn't we move on to the next item on our agenda," Rodney said making a mental note to seek out Lorne later and pester him with questions. Though he had noticed that Carson didn't seem to be at all surprised by the revelation that Major Lorne has superhuman abilities, it made him wonder had Carson already known. _I'll ask him later_, Rodney thought.

"Rodney's right," Elizabeth said. "We have much more to discuss in this meeting – like how we're going to repair the damaged to the city. But first we have a much more personal, much more human matter to discuss."

"A memorial service for those who died here yesterday," Caldwell said his tone and expression solemn, like everyone else in Atlantis himself and the _Daedalus_ crew felt the pain of yesterday's losses. Out here everyone was almost family, military and civilian personnel from dozens of countries all had been moulded into a sort of family by the realities of life in the Pegasus Galaxy. The loss of so many yesterday was a painful wound to their collective soul, one that would take awhile to heal.

"Yes. I've drawn up a basic outline for the service and when it's to be held," Elizabeth said. "I will now run through it, if anyone feels that something needs to be added then please feel free to speak up."

One by one everyone in the room nodded solemnly in acknowledgement. Elizabeth tapped a command into her PDA, bringing up the arrangements that she had so far worked out. With as much calmness as she could muster given the circumstances she began to read out the details.

* * *

**New York**

**Twenty Minutes Later**

The moment they arrived outside the studio of Issac Mendez Doctor Daniel Jackson knew that something was wrong. The glass door to the studio was slightly ajar and the interior appeared to dark, there were no lights on at all. Even with sunlight streaming in through the windows he would have expected some lights to be on, especially as frantically working city engineers had restored power to this part of the city now.

"Something's not right here," Daniel said aloud as a feeling of cold certainty ran down his spine.

"The door shouldn't be open like this, hell if anyone was in there would be lights on inside. Everyone be on your guard," Mitchell said taking his sidearm from his jacket.

One by one everyone nodded, drew their own sidearms and cautiously eased the door open fully and entered the studio. To a scene of complete and total chaos, paint tins were laying all over the floor along with other art materials, some of the paint tins had come open releasing their acrylic coloured contents all over the floor. Elsewhere paintings and stands had been knocked over, and were scattered around all over the place. Streak marks in the slicks of paint from the knocked over paint tins covered the floor. Clearly there had been a struggle in here, a big one.

"What the hell happened here," Vala said as they slowly looked around.

"That," a new voice said. "Is what we would also like to know."

In unison SG-1, Airman Turner and the NID agents spun around, bringing up their weapons up in the process. To see that three people had come in through the opened door. One was a reasonably tall Caucasian man with black hair, the other two were Japanese men, one with what looked like a sheathed Katana on his back.

"Who are you," the tall man in the middle asked. "And what are you doing here?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**A Few Moments Earlier**

The moment he arrived outside Issac's studio in the company of Hiro Nakamura and Ando Masahashi, Peter Petrelli knew that something was wrong. The lights that normally glowed inside the studio were dark and the door was wide open, something that Issac never did as he often claimed the noise of passing traffic distracted him from his work. The uncharacteristic sights of the opened door and the absent lights set mental alarm bells ringing in Peter's head and he automatically assumed the worst. That Sylar had been here, killed Issac and left the door open on his way out.

Glancing left and right Peter saw that Hiro and Ando were as tense as he was, both feeling the same wrongness and unease that he felt. Reaching into his mental filing cabinet of powers Peter took out the telekinetic, invisibility and healing filing cards, and immediately felt the abilities blossoming in his mind, waiting for commands from his will. If on the off chance Sylar was still here then Peter knew he would need all of them, one encounter with the superpowered serial killer was more than enough to tell him he would need every advantage he could get.

"Come on," he said quietly to Hiro and Ando before walking cautiously into the studio. The two Japanese men followed a pace behind him; all three gazed down on a scene of total chaos and mayhem. _What the hell happened in here,_ Peter thought, then he saw them. Eight individuals, two in expensive looking suits the rest in military combat fatigues, standing around looking at the chaos.

"What the hell happened here," one of the two women in the group, the one with long black hair, asked in an accent that Peter couldn't place.

"That," Peter said, speaking without thinking first. "Is what we would like to know."

With surprising speed, the eight individuals spun around and trained a virtual battery of semi-automatic handguns on the three of them. A chill of reflexive fear ran down Peter's spine at the sight of so many weapons pointed at him, and he almost took a step backwards. Then he mentally reminded himself how easy it would be for him to telekinetically stop the bullets should these people – whoever they were – shoot at them. Of all his absorbed abilities telekinesis, flying and healing came the most easily to him.

"Who are you," Peter asked the heavily armed group with typical Petrelli boldness. "And what are you doing here?" He had a very good idea who these people were, but he wanted them to confirm it. Reaching into his mental filing cabinet again he retrieved the telepathic file card and allowed the ability to come fully to the surface.

Silence reigned in the room, an oppressive silence that you could have heard a pin drop in. Peter, Hiro and Ando stood there ground, facing down the armed group. With so many weapons pointed at them they could hardly retreat without risking being shot. _'Damn these guys are cool,'_ came a thought into Peter's mind from one of the people pointing the guns at them.

"Please do stop pointing the firearms at us, we're not your enemies. Please tell us who are you," Ando said speaking for the first time. "What are you doing here?"

"Who we are is not important," the one who's thought Peter had heard said and Peter heard another thought from him. _'The better question is who are you.'_ The thought echoed in Peter's mind and inwardly he frowned in a mixture of surprise and confusion. He had thought these guys came from The Company, now it appeared that they weren't.

"Your military aren't you," Peter said. "I can see by the way your holding those firearms."

"What are you going here," Ando repeated. "And where is Issac? What have you done with him?"

"That's not your concern," one of the others, one of the two in black business suits said trying to look intimidating. Peter however being used to Nathan was not at all phased by the man's attitude, he had nothing on Nathan Petrelli in full intimidation mode. _'Damned interlopers interfering in national security matters,'_ the man thought.

"What does Issac have to do with national security issues," Peter asked. _'What the hell,'_ came the thought almost in stereo from four of the eight people, the other four were silent and Peter was mildly creped out that he couldn't hear their thoughts at all.

"How the hell did you know this is a matter of national security," the second suited guy asked moving his gun a little bit higher, trying to intimidate an answer. "Who are you?"

"You sound like Vorlon," Hiro said in faulty heavily accented English, a laugh in his voice. Most of the group in front of them couldn't help but snicker at that observation. "You put gun down now."

"I think not," the agent answered, still smiling a little at being compared to a cult sci-fi alien. "Who are you?"

"We superheroes," Hiro answered.

"Hiro," Peter and Ando said in unison, giving the smaller Japanese man identical irritated looks that made him cringe. Meanwhile one of the group snickered.

"Oh great just what we need," Cameron Mitchell said. "A pack of nutcases, as much as I would like the amusement why don't you guys run off and bug someone else."

Peter looked pointedly at the man guessing that this guy was the one in charge. "And who might you be," he asked.

"Who am I? Why John Sheridan," Mitchell replied, sarcasm heavy in his voice. _'Colonel Cameron Mitchell,'_ the thought from Mitchell clearly said in Peter's head.

"I would say nice to meet you Colonel Cameron Mitchell," Peter said. "But under the circumstances it is not."

Mitchell's eyes widened slightly as the tall man said his name and rank. "How the hell did you know my name and rank," he asked. "I didn't say anything."

"Not your business, Colonel," Peter replied his frown replaced by a nasty grin at Mitchell's look of irritation thanks to his evasion of the question. "Now why don't you put your guns down and please tell us where Issac is."

Mitchell raised an eyebrow. "I don't think so and we don't owe you any explanations," he said, noticing that the smaller Japanese guy that had been identified as Hiro had a look of intense concentration on his face. So much that he looked like he was going to brown his pants any second. "What's the matter with…."

* * *

Seeing that Mitchell and the group of people were not going to lower there guns anytime soon, despite repeated polite requests, Hiro inwardly sighed. _Time to even the odds,_ he thought concentrating on his ability to bend the space time continuum. Despite the presence of the sword, slowing down or stopping time was still difficult though he was getting better at it now that he had the sword to focus his power on. 

"What's the matter with…" he heard Mitchell start to say then his voice cut of mid-sentence. Hiro looked up to see time frozen all around him. Smiling Hiro moved over to the eight member team and one by one took their guns from them. Looking around he found a plastic box that had once held paints but now was lying upside down empty, turning it upright he placed the guns one at a time inside.

Then he picked up the box and carried it over to his original position besides Peter Petrelli, who was frozen in time like everyone else though Hiro knew that had he wanted to Peter could have bent space time in the same way he could. _What must it be like to have so many powers,_ he thought, before concentrating once more, this time to unfreeze time.

* * *

"…with him," Mitchell finished then gasped when he found that his gun was gone from his hand and he was grasping empty air. Around him there were murmurs of confusion and surprise as the NID agents, the rest of his team and Airman Turner found that their own weapons were gone. 

Looking over at the strange three men he saw that a red plastic box had appeared in front of Hiro, and sticking out the top of the box were there sidearms. Mitchell's eyes went wide in disbelief realising that somehow in a literal blink of an eye they had all been disarmed without a struggle. _How the hell have they done that,_ he thought, _not even Ori Priors can disarm us without us seeing them do it. Shit that tall ones hearing my thoughts isn't he?_

Peter couldn't help but grin slightly as he heard Colonel Mitchell's thoughts. For a moment he considered confirming that he was indeed reading his thoughts but decided against it, words of caution from both Claude and Nathan echoing in his mind persuading him to keep quiet about his ability.

"I am getting tired of asking this question so this is the last time I'm going to ask, what have you done with Issac?" Peter said, his voice cracking like a whip as he spoke as he was starting to run out of patience with this bunch of people. He was getting tired of playing twenty questions with them, if they didn't give him answers soon then Peter knew he would end up doing something he would regret.

Looking at the tall man Daniel got the distinct impression that they were really treading on dangerous ground with him now, it was obvious that he was coming to the end of his patience. And something inside him told him that they didn't want to see what would happen if this man – whoever he was – did loose his patience. Carefully he raised his hands slightly and held his palms out in the universal gesture to calm down.

"Everyone please calm down," Daniel said softly in a reasonable tone of voice. "Continuing like this will only lead to confrontation and that's the last thing any of us wants. It obvious that we're both here for the same thing, to talk to Issac Mendez, we haven't taken him or done anything with him, so lets cut out the macho stuff and talk to each other like sensible individuals."

Peter frowned slightly at the fit looking, spectacled man that had just spoken. He was one of the ones whose thoughts he couldn't hear for some strange reason. As far as his telepathic ability was concerned the man was a void, something that he'd never encountered before. But then he didn't use telepathy that often as he didn't like the headaches that came from prolonged use. Still looking at the man there was something that made Peter want to trust him.

"I believe you," he said. "I believe you haven't taken Issac, but that doesn't really change anything. What do you want with Issac?"

"Classified," Cameron answered easily, grinning mockingly. "I will say this it concerns a matter of national security."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "That's the second time you've mentioned Issac and national security," he said. "What's he done?"

"Classified," Cameron answered again. _'Painted pictures of Atlantis that's what he's done,'_ the thought came into Peter's mind.

"Classified," Peter repeated. "So the military is classifying old legends now is it? I would think you guys would have better things to do than that, especially with the so called 'war on terror'."

"How the hell are you doing that," Cameron demanded. _'Great now they know that Atlantis is real,'_ he thought making Peter's eyes widen in surprise.

"Atlantis is real," Peter blurted out in surprise before he could stop himself. Shocked looks though for very different reasons came from all around him. Hiro and Ando were just gripped by pure and total shock and disbelief, SG-1 and the NID agents looking shocked and alarmed realising that security had been breached right here and now, breached in away that they couldn't understand.

Cameron then grinned. "Mistake my friend," he said. "You are your friends are going to have to come with us now."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "And if we refuse what are you going to do, take us by force, you don't have any weapons now" he asked, smiling slightly.

"Oh don't we," Cameron said reaching into his jacket pocket.

"Cam…" Daniel started to say realising what Cameron Mitchell was planning to do.

"Shut up, Daniel," Cameron replied clicking the radio on and grinning at the three individuals before him. "_Odyssey_ lock onto this signal and bring everyone up please."

Peter frowned slightly at Colonel Mitchell wondering just who he was speaking to and what he meant. A moment later however a strange tingling sensation filled his body and a flash of white light enveloped his vision and suddenly they weren't in the shambles of Issac's studio anymore. Instead they were in a metal room, illuminated by florescent white light, with a constant faint humming sound like machinery.

"Welcome to the _Odyssey,_" Cameron said.

"And what is the _Odyssey_," Peter asked, hiding the fact that he was startled by the sudden change of location.

"Turn around and look."

"And turn my back on you I think not," Peter replied noticing out the corner of his eye, Hiro turning around to see where they were and emitting a startled cry then saying something excited sounding in Japanese.

"We in space, we in space," Hiro said his voice high pitched with excitement.

"What," Peter replied spinning around and gaping at what was in front of him. Directly ahead was a large viewing window and through that window they could see the curve of the Earth's horizon below them.

"Now Teal'c," Cameron said from behind them making Peter spin around again just in time to see the tall and absolutely massive black man take some weird pistol out of his pocket, a pistol that looked like a coiled snake. Peter's eyes widened and he reached into his mental filing cabinet to summon his telekinetic abilities as the man with a downright weird name did something that made the pistol uncoil and its tip open so it was like a cobra ready to strike. Before he could react the gun was trained on him and fired.

A strange crackling bolt of blue energy slammed into Peter and he felt his muscles convulse and lock up with pain as the blast shot through his nervous system. A small cry was drawn from his lips, then the pain from the shot became too great, he felt himself starting to fall, then he knew nothing at all as consciousness deserted him.

Hiro and Ando stared at the downed Peter in shock but before either could say or do anything Teal'c shot them as well. Both collapsed to the deck with soft cries of pain before joining Peter in unconsciousness.

"Now what," Daniel asked.

"We lock them up," Cameron replied. "We can interrogate them later and find out just how much they know. And this one," he tapped Peter's unconscious form with the toe of his right foot, "seemed to be almost in my head. I want to know how he did that and what he's learned." As he spoke the door to the room opened and three armed airmen from the _Odyssey_ crew came in. "Take these three to a cell," Cameron ordered them.

"Yes, sir," the sergeant in charge of the security detachment said before moving in with the others to take the three unconscious men to a holding cell, after taking any weapons they had from them of course.

* * *

**Atlantis**

**That Same Time**

Doctor Carson Beckett nervously walked across the walkway between Atlantis's control room and the office that Doctor Elizabeth Weir had claimed as her own. Ever since this mornings staff meeting he had been thinking about doing what he was about to do, it was necessary, he felt that it was, but he was nervous about it. This would be the first time he would talk to any normal about his abilities.

Arriving at the threshold of the office he saw that there was no one inside, though the door to the balcony was open letting in a cool saline scented breeze. Guessing that Elizabeth was out on the balcony he crossed the office and slipped gracefully through the door, blinking in the bright sunshine that assaulted his eyes. As his vision adjusted Carson looked across the balcony to find Elizabeth leaning against the rail on the far side, a glass filled with some clear liquid in one hand, looking out over the gleaming towers of Atlantis.

"Elizabeth," he said to get her attention as he moved over.

Elizabeth jumped slightly, not expecting company on the balcony, given that almost everyone was busy with on going damage control efforts and making the arrangements for tomorrow's memorial service. Turning she was mildly surprised to find Carson standing there looking strangely nervous.

"Carson, I wasn't expecting you," she said in greeting. "Is everything alright? You look nervous."

"I need to talk to you, Elizabeth," Carson answered. "And I need you to promise that whatever we say will remain between us. It's only right you know, I should have told you before. But I don't want anyone else to know yet."

"Of course I'll keep your confidence, Carson," Elizabeth replied, astonished that he would even have to ask her. Surely Carson knew her better than that, everything they had been through for the last three years should have told him she would keep anything he imparted to her in confidence. "Whatever it is it can't be so bad," she continued.

"Are you sure about that," Carson asked. "I haven't exactly told you everything about me, oh you've read my file but what I have to say is not in my file. As I said I should have told you before now."

"Its okay, Carson," Elizabeth replied. "Just tell me."

Carson sighed. "It's about superhuman abilities, I've known about them for awhile, I've know what Evan can do for nearly two years. But I've known about the existence of real life superpowers a lot longer than that"

"And you never said anything? Why? And how long have you know?"

"I never said partly because I didn't think anyone would believe me," Carson admitted. "And I was afraid, afraid of what people would do to me and to the others if they found out."

Elizabeth's eyes widened as she began to realise what Carson was saying. "You've got superpowers as well," she said in both a question and a statement.

"Yes I have. I've had them for several years, but before you ask my abilities are different to, Evan's," Carson replied. "I'm a empathic telepath, Elizabeth."

"What does that mean?"

"Its means I can read peoples emotions," Carson replied. "Read and if I wish manipulate them. I can make a sad person suddenly come out of the depths of despair to laugh their head off, by the same token I can plunge a person into the depths of emotional depression if I wanted to do so."

"Are you reading me now," Elizabeth asked shock giving way to hurt and hints of anger and betrayal. She trusted Carson and he'd never told her this before, didn't he trust her or something.

"This close I can't help it," Carson replied looking at her pleadingly. "Please don't feel that way. I was wrong not to tell you, you're my friend I don't want to loose that."

"Why didn't you tell me before now, Carson," Elizabeth asked.

"I wanted to, Elizabeth. I really wanted to tell you, to get the secret off my chest for someone else in the city to know me," Carson replied. "I came so close to telling you that first year we were here, especially after we discovered Teyla can commune with the Wraith. But there never seemed to be the time, especially as we had the Wraith fleet bearing down on us. After the siege ended it just didn't feel like it was the right time to tell you and we were all so busy."

"So what's different now," Elizabeth asked, hurt and betrayal giving way to compassion, understanding and a hint of shame. She could tell that Carson felt absolutely awful about not having told her about his abilities before. She couldn't help but feel a little ashamed of herself as a result, maybe if she hadn't buried herself in her work so thoroughly after returning here from Earth and been more approachable for personal issues from her senior staff they wouldn't be having this conversation now.

"Nothing really," Carson admitted. "The only difference is now you know superhuman abilities do exist outside of comic books and artificial inducements. Since you found out about Evan yesterday when he saved you I've been debating with myself if I should tell you. I almost said in the briefing this morning, but I didn't I don't want to loose all the friends I've made here."

"You're not going to loose friends, Carson," Elizabeth replied. "Not if their true friends, yes people will be hurt and upset that you've never told them but they'll come around."

"How can you be sure," Carson asked.

"Just trust me, Carson. If someone is truly your friend they won't desert you just because you reveal you have superpowers. I for one sure won't desert you," Elizabeth replied putting a hand on Carson shoulder. "And I'll keep your secret for as long as you want me to keep it. I take in Major Lorne knows about you."

"Yeah he does," Carson answered. "Its one of the reasons our friendship took off so fast, the fact that we're the only two – I guess you could call us metahumans for lack of better term -

in Atlantis with active superpowers provided an instant bond."

"Active powers, there are more people with powers here?"

"There are several currently inactive metahumans on Atlantis; a study of each individual person has yielded the results, including two marines, a number of the scientists." Carson looked into Elizabeth's eyes and delivered his latest bombshell. "And you."

As Carson spoke the glass of water she had been holding slipped from Elizabeth's fingers, to shatter into dozens of crystal fragments.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

The sound of the breaking glass echoed slightly around the balcony but Elizabeth Weir didn't hear it at all. Instead she stood stock still, like a statue, frozen in place by the shock of what Carson had just told her. For one of the very few times in her life she couldn't think what to say, what to do as his words continued to echo through her mind. She was like Carson and Lorne? She could one morning wake up and find out that she had superhuman abilities like them? No it couldn't be she couldn't have heard him right. Surely if she had powers they would have shown up before now.

"Can you… can you repeat that, Carson," she said at last her voice shaking slightly with her shock. "I can't have heard you correctly."

"You heard me correctly, Elizabeth," Carson replied as his superior's feelings of total shock echoed at the edge of his awareness, only just being kept out of his head by his mental equivalent of defence shields. "There are several more inactive metahumans in Atlantis, you amongst them."

"But surely…." Elizabeth started to say only for Carson to cut her off. He could guess what she was going to say, as he had felt the same way when his own abilities had shown up out of the blue several years ago. An event he could well recall as he'd been working at a busy Edingborough hospital at the time.

"Not necessarily," Carson answered. "No one really knows what causes superpowers to activate. Sometimes puberty does it, as in Evan's case, but at other times they can just appear out of the blue without any warning. It can be very frightening disorientating when it happens either way, like when it happened to me."

Despite her ongoing shock at Carson's words, Elizabeth was curious. "What happened, Carson?" she asked. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No its okay," Carson replied. "I was working as an emergency doctor in the accident and emergency department of one of Edingborough's main hospitals at the time. It was September 12th 1999; I came in to work despite the fact that I had a bit of a headache. For awhile everything seemed to be okay, the headache didn't bother me all that much. But then there was a big pile up on the motorway involving multiple cars, a tour bus and a lorry. When the casualties began arriving I… I felt their pain as if it were my own."

Elizabeth flinched slightly as he said that. "That must have been strange and difficult for you," she said.

"It was," Carson replied shivering as he remembered. "I didn't know what was happening to me; I ended up going home early. But it didn't stop I felt the emotions of everyone around me, I thought I was going insane."

"I think that would drive anyone insane," Elizabeth said, inwardly wincing imagining what it had been like for Carson to be sudden faced with a deluge of emotions that were not his own.

Carson nodded. "It almost did with me," he said. "I came very close to becoming a hermit, a refugee from society. I was willing to do anything for a bit of peace and quiet, to be alone in my head again. But then I met someone, another metahuman, her name was Carolyn Masters. She helped me so much."

"What did she do," Elizabeth asked, hearing a hint of pain in Carson's voice when he spoke about her and spotting a similar flash of pain in his blue eyes. "You don't have to say if you don't want to."

"It's okay," Carson replied. "Carolyn was also telepathic but she was a telepath in the true sense of the word, able to read peoples thoughts but not their emotions. In other words she could do the opposite to me, I can read emotions and guess the thoughts behind them but I can't truly read thoughts. Nevertheless we were close enough in our abilities for Carolyn to teach me to control mine and how to use them properly. In the process we got close, eventually we fell in love.

"We would have gotten married," Carson continued. "But fate had other ideas; Carolyn was killed when some idiot drunk driver, who they never found, knocked her down at fifty miles an hour."

As he spoke he involuntarily projected his feelings and Elizabeth gasped as waves of overwhelming grief, hurt and pain washed over her. They tore through her mind and soul with all the force of a hurricane, sweeping away everything that she had been feeling and thinking, drowning it in a tidal wave of human anguish. Her eyes began to burn as she felt the heartbreak as if it were her own. A sob was drawn from her lungs… and she fought desperately not to burst into tears.

Then abruptly as it had begun it stopped, the pain vanished, being washed away beneath a soothing, calming balm that efficiently banished the anguish from her heart and soul. Elizabeth blinked as her eyes began to calm down, to find Carson looking at her in apology.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth," he said. "I didn't mean to do that, I… I projected without realising I was doing it. I'm sorry, please forgive me."

"Its okay, Carson," Elizabeth replied, still a little shaky from the experience. It had been extraordinary and terrifying and she began to realise just how powerful Carson's power, his gift was. It also revealed to her how good a soul Carson was, she had encountered any number of people in her life who would abuse the kind of power over someone's life that Carson had, but knowing Carson she suspected that he thought the very idea of abusing his ability abhorrent. "You must have loved her a great deal," she added after a moment.

"Aye, Elizabeth, I did," Carson answered, smiling sadly before looking out over the gleaming metal and crystal skyline of Atlantis and the architecture that was alien and yet at the same time so comfortingly familiar. "I wish so much that she was still here, Carolyn would have loved this city."

Elizabeth smiled and started to open her mouth to speak, to turn the subject of conversation back to the bombshell Carson had dropped on her about five minutes ago now. But before she could start to speak, the communications unit on Carson right ear crackled.

"Doctor Beckett," a voice said in Carson's ear, a voice he recognised as belonging to one of the newer nurses on his medical staff, though he couldn't remember the man's name.

Carson pressed the button on the side of the unit, a unit that was so like a Bluetooth headset and indeed was based off that technology. "Yes," Carson answered.

"Doctor we just had a code blue, one of the most critically injured patients from yesterday just arrested. We've brought him back but he's now fitting uncontrollably."

"Do what you can to stabilise his condition," Carson ordered. "I'll be right there." Another tap of the button on the unit's side closed the connection. "Sorry, Elizabeth I have to go."

Elizabeth nodded. "Go on, Carson," she said. "We'll talk more later."

Carson nodded, turned and raced back inside to make his way through the city to the infirmary where his help was currently most desperately needed. Elizabeth watched him leave, then she turned and resumed looking out over Atlantis' skyline, thoughts now dominated by Carson's revelations, especially the revelation that she and six others in the city all had the potential to one day develop superhuman abilities.

For a moment she considered it, some little childish part of her jumped for joy at the thought of maybe developing superpowers, but the rest of her was a bit weary of it. After a few moments she put it out of her mind, if it happened and she developed superpowers at some point, it happened. If it didn't then that would be perfectly fine with her. Until then there was no point in worrying or thinking about it. Especially as she could hear the ever growing stack of paperwork on her desk practically calling her name. With a soft sigh of resignation, Elizabeth turned and walked back inside to get back to the job of running the Atlantis expedition.

* * *

**USAF Odyssey**

**Earth Orbit, A Few Minutes Later**

It occurred to Peter Petrelli that it was a long way back to consciousness. He was drifting down a tunnel towards the bright light that he somehow knew represented the conscious world. But it was not an easy passage; the tunnel was filled with mist that ranged in thickness and density from a harmless cloud to a substance that had the consistency of cotton wool. And that wasn't all, the gravity in the tunnel varied constantly, going from being no gravity it all to being so strong that he could barely move.

Finally though after what seemed like an eternity he drifted into the bright light of consciousness and with a sharp jolt like an electric shock felt his body again. His body ached softly all over, though it was fading away slowly. Carefully he opened his eyes, only to close them again with a groan as the harsh fluorescent lighting sent red hot needles of pain blasting down his optic nerves to stab into his brain. Reflexively he reached into his mental filing cabinet of powers and pulled out Claire's healing ability and let it flow through his body. Instantly the aches and pains faded away to nothing and he opened his eyes again and blinked a few times until his eyes adjusted to the brightness.

Slowly Peter sat up and looked around, to find that he was alone in a small narrow room with metal walls and floor, a floor on which he was laid out. Bare metal shelving units were located on two of the walls, though naturally there was nothing in them. Aside from that the room was featureless though he could hear a constant background humming sound. _What? Where am I,_ he thought his brain still slightly fuzzy and not able to process where he was or how he had gotten here.

After a few minutes of just sitting there on the hard metal floor memories returned and Peter stood up angrily. The military had arrogantly abducted him, Hiro and Ando, bringing the up somehow to some incredible spaceship in orbit of the Earth. A spaceship that he would bet good money that the world didn't know about and wouldn't until the government considered it advantageous to its agenda to know about. Not only that they had shot them with some kind of laser weapon that had rendered them unconscious then thrown them in storerooms. Not seeing Hiro or Ando Peter could only assume that they were being kept somewhere else.

Angrily Peter marched over to the door and endeavoured to open the door through its apparent locking mechanism. To his total lack of surprise it wouldn't move, the door was locked, he was clearly a prisoner.

"Hey," he yelled banging on the door hard grateful that the healing power was still flowing through him preventing him feeling the pain of hitting the heavy metal of the door. "Hey let me out of here. Hey."

No reply was forthcoming and Peter took a few steps back and glared angrily at the still shut door, his anger grew with ever passing second. How dare the military do this? Knowing them they probably thought themselves above the law, which under national security justification they probably felt they were. _Fine if you won't let me out, I'll let myself out,_ Peter thought reaching into his mental filing cabinet and taking out two more powers his invisibility and telekinetic powers and allowing both to flow through his body. Had anyone been watching they would have seen Peter slowly fade out of existence, eventually vanishing altogether and showing no sign of ever having been there.

Focusing on the door Peter lashed out with his telekinetic abilities, sending an invisible battering ram of force into the door. The door visibly shook in its frame and emitted a sharp creaking sound as it was subjected to intense stress. Focusing more Peter increased the amount of telekinetic force hammering the door, making the tough metal thing shake and rattle in its frame. Eventually with a sharp, shrieking sound of snapping metal the door ripped off its hinges and flew into the far wall with a resounding clang.

Reining in his telekinetic powers a bit Peter stepped out into the corridor and found that to his right was a dead end, to his left was a corridor that led into the rest of the ship, a corridor down which three men were running brandishing weapons there attention drawn by the door flying off its hinges. Smiling Peter lashed out with his telekinesis again sending all three men flying back up the corridor in the direction they had come from, slamming them into the wall at the end with enough force that they crumpled unconscious to the ground. _Now to find Hiro and Ando,_ Peter thought a moment before an alarm split the air, _great nothing like a time limit._

Walking forward Peter noticed two more doors in the corridor, both of whom appeared to be locked. Smiling he guessed it was in those rooms that Hiro and Ando were being held prisoner. _Hang on guys,_ he thought, _I'll soon have you out of there._

* * *

**Briefing Room**

**A Few Moments Earlier**

Carrying a mug of softly steaming coffee Colonel Cameron Mitchell walked into the briefing room, to find the rest of his team – with the exception of Vala who was sitting there looking bored – going through some files that had been hurriedly sent up from the planet.

"So we found out anything about our 'guests'," he asked.

"Some but not a lot," Daniel replied looking up and resisting the impulse to scowl. Beaming the three strangers up here to the _Odyssey_ was a bad move in his opinion, but there was nothing they could do about it now. Even though every fibre of his being was telling him that they had made a mistake, a big one.

"So what do we know," Cameron asked again, though he could tell from the look Daniel was giving him that SG-1's veteran archaeologist, anthropologist, linguist was still not happy with him. _Probably still miffed that I had our 'guests' beamed up to this ship,_ Cameron thought, _but what else was I supposed to do, they know Atlantis is real._ Though quite how that tall one had known that Cameron had no idea, but he could swear that the guy had been in his head somehow.

"Names mostly, sir," Sam replied. "The two Japanese gentlemen have been identified as Hiro Nakamura and Ando Masahashi, Mr Nakamura is the youngest child of a Japanese businessman and one of the heirs to a multi-billion dollar corporate empire. Neither him nor Mr Masahashi are working at the moment but going around America on some kind of 'heroic journey' but we know nothing else. We only know that as NID has been keeping an eye on Mr Nakamura's father's activities."

"And the other one, the tall New Yorker, the guy who seemed to get inside my head?"

"His name's Peter Petrelli," Daniel answered. "Younger brother of New York Congressional candidate Nathan Petrelli. From his file he's a hospice nurse though he resigned from the job about two months ago, according to his file he attempted to commit suicide and it is on public record that with the aide of his brother he's been getting counselling. All in all he appears to be a normal guy."

"Normal guys don't read peoples minds, Jackson," Cameron pointed out. "There has to be something there to explain how he can do that."

"Afraid not," Daniel replied. "All the data says he's a normal Italian American guy. Though there is one oddity here. About a month ago he was found lying in a pool of his own blood in Odessa, Texas. Yet when he was examined there were no injuries at all anywhere on his body, not even bruises. Though the amount of blood loss pointed to extremely severe, potential fatal injury."

"How could he loose blood but no show any injury," Vala asked looking up, inwardly itching for something to happen.

"No idea," Daniel replied. "Unless somebody in Odessa has a Goa'uld sarcophagus hidden away somewhere. But somehow I doubt that is the case, I have feeling that were missing something big time. Something that all the information that we can get off a computer can't reveal."

Cameron started to open his mouth to suggest that they get someone up here to do a genetic test on their guests, when the alarms went off. A high pitched urgent klaxon that wailed throughout the whole of the _Odyssey_, reverberating throughout the very structure of the warship.

"What the hell," Cameron said in shock, the last time that alert had gone off was when the _Odyssey_ had been boarded by forces of the Lucian Alliance. But there was no way that could be happening again, not here in Earth orbit. Confused Cameron walked over to the wall mounted communications unit and called the bridge. "Bridge, what's going on?"

"Security alert in lower storage sections where we're keeping our 'guests'," one of the bridge crew answered. "The sensors monitoring one of the doors was tripped, the three marines on duty down there went to check on it, we've had no contact with them since. Additional marines are on their way down now."

"We'll join them, then," Cameron said.

"Yes, sir."

Cameron closed the connection with the bridge and turned to look at his team. "There's trouble in the lower storage areas," he said. "Some people sent down there haven't reported in, more are going down we should be amongst them."

"Especially since we brought them here in the first place," Daniel replied with a pointed look at Cameron. "I would suggest we take an anti-Prior device with us, if Mr Petrelli does indeed have some kind of mental abilities we will definitely need it."

"I'm not sure that the frequency their set on would work," Carter pointed out. "But if necessary I can run through the frequencies."

"So what are we waiting for?" Cameron asked. "Let's get down there."

* * *

**Lower Storage Area**

Peter Petrelli mentally crossed his fingers as he focused his telekinetic powers on the next door in the line of doors in the corridor. The first room he had opened had been a plane storeroom filled with boxes and tubs that contained who knew what, there had been no sign of Hiro or Ando.

The door before him groaned and shook in its frame, but didn't come off its frame like the last one had. It was getting harder to rip the doors off their hinges, taking more and more effort, more concentration. He was tiring he could feel it; whatever these doors were made from it was very strong and took enormous amounts of telekinetic force to rip them off their mountings. He would manage though, he was too stubborn to quit now, he was a Petrelli after all and they didn't quit if they could help it.

Finally with a shriek of tortured metal the door hinges snapped and the door flew off its mountings to slam into the opposing wall. Peter inwardly sighed in relief a moment before an Asian head cautiously poked out of the opened door.

"Hello," Ando Masahashi called.

"Ando," Peter said. Ando looked around curiously and Peter inwardly cursed remembering that he had made himself invisible when in his cell. Concentrating slightly Peter pushed that power away, returning the invisibility filing card to its place in his mental filing cabinet. Ando jumped slightly when Peter materialised out of thin air in front of him.

"Don't do that," Ando complained even though he though that Peter's invisible man trick was a cool power. There were plenty of things he could imagine it would be useful for, like sneaking into the girls shower room for some clandestine observations.

"Sorry," Peter replied. "Come on lets find Hiro and the sword of his so we can get off this ship."

"Sounds like a plan," Ando agreed mentioning for Peter to take the lead.

Peter nodded and led the way up the corridor, pausing as he noticed one of the three men he'd knocked out a few minutes ago starting to come around. _No you don't,_ he thought giving the man a moderate telekinetic shove so he banged his head lightly, and in his groggy state it was more than enough to send the marine back off to dreamland. Rounding a corner they came upon an open space with doors on two sides and a larger door on the opposite wall. A table surrounded by chairs sat in the middle of it and in the middle of it sat Hiro's sword, still in its sheath.

Seeing all the doors Peter almost felt like having a heart attack. He hoped he wouldn't have to open all of these doors, he knew he would never make it. His body would scream enough long before he made a dent in the number of doors. A soft thudding sound caught his attention, it sounded like someone banging on a solid surface, though the sound was very muffled.

"Its coming from over there," Ando said pointing to the third door along on the wall immediately to Peter's right. "Its got to be Hiro."

Peter nodded. "Get the sword while I get him out of there," he replied. Ando nodded and ran to grab Kensei's sword from the table while Peter moved so he was near to the door he needed to open.

Once again he reached out with his telekinetic abilities and endeavoured to pull the door off its hinges. Like the others the door put up one hell of a fight shaking violently and creaking before the hinges snapped under the telekinetic onslaught. The door flew across the room, narrowly missing Ando on its journey to the far wall. Peter shot Ando an apologetic look as Hiro came bounding out of the storage room he had been trapped in jabbering something annoyed sounding to Peter's ears in Japanese.

"Come on, Hiro," Peter said. "More soldiers are bound to be coming to this room we need to get off this ship now."

"Me get us off," Hiro replied accepting the sword from Ando. "Thank you Ando-san. All move closer."

Peter and Ando both nodded and moved in as close to Hiro as they could without crushing the smaller man between them. Hiro closed his eyes and concentrated on teleporting them away from this ship back to New York. For a moment more nothing happened then he felt a momentary tingle then the sound of a car horn made him jump.

Opening his eyes again Hiro smiled when he saw that they were in an alleyway besides one of New York's busy roads. From the sounds of car horns going off constantly Hiro guessed that there was a traffic jam. Something that he already knew to be very common in New York as the cities roads struggled with the massive daily volume of traffic that came through it.

For a few moments they all stood there in silence, thinking about there escape and how bemused the military were going to be when they found them gone. Finally after a few moments Peter spoke up.

"Okay I'll ask it," he said, starting to lead the way out of the ally onto the sidewalk. "What the hell was that?" Hiro and Ando didn't answer as there was no real answer that could be given as they didn't know anymore about the mysterious ship than Peter did. Instead they quietly followed him out onto the sidewalk.

They had just started walking when Hiro spoke up in an excited, awed tone of voice. "We were just on real life spaceship."


	9. Chapter 9

**Gods Among Us**

Authors Note: My personal thanks to Amarielah for agreeing to beta-read this fic for me.

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

**USAF Odyssey**

**A Few Moments Later**

Colonel Cameron Mitchell held his P90 in ready position as he, the rest of SG-1, and a detachment of marines, prepared to enter the lower storage section. Every hatch had gone into secure lockdown the moment the security alarms had been tripped in this section of the ship, and each electronic lock was protected by security codes. There was no chance of their 'guests' having gotten out, so he knew to expect trouble, especially if they were desperate and anxious to escape. Where they hoped to go, though, he had no idea. It would be impossible for them to fly any of the 302's or operate the transporter beams – the only ways of really leaving the ship.

Cameron watched carefully as one of the ships crew keyed in the code to override the door lock. The lock bleeped three times. Then, with a thud, the lock released, and the doors slid open. Cautiously, weary of the potential for trouble, the assembled group entered the room with Cameron in the lead. As they entered they fanned out cautiously, constantly alert, searching for their 'guests'.

But they were nowhere to be seen. And as they started to really examine the room it became apparent that, aside from three marines sprawled unconscious on the other side of the main room, the place was empty. They also realized the fact that one of the doors to the individual storage compartments had been ripped cleanly off its titanium-alloy hinges. It must have taken immense force, as the hinges were ripped apart, and the inch-thick door hurled clear to the other side of the room.

Cameron whistled. "Whoa. Did someone smuggle a pile driver onto this ship?" he asked, looking at the wrecked door. He became serious. "Spread out – find our guests. They can't have gotten out. Get a medical team down here, too."

The team spread out, while Sam went over to the wall comm. unit to summon a medical team for the three unconscious marines. They searched the whole storage section carefully for the people they had been holding for questioning. They did not find them. What they did find, however, were three more doors ripped off their hinges and thrown clear.

Cameron frowned. "Where _are_ they?" he asked no one in particular. "They can't have gotten out of this section. How the hell did they rip these doors off their hinges?"

"Unknown, sir," Carter said, coming over. "The hinges of these doors are very strong; there should have been no way for three unarmed men to do this. I also can't explain how they got out of here without being detected, unless they had a personal cloak, or a Tollan phase shift device, both of which are unlikely. I would suggest that we review the security footage for clues."

Cameron nodded his agreement. The three 'guests' should still be there-- there was no way for them to leave the ship. Hopefully, the security footage in this section would provide some answers to the inexplicable disappearances of Peter Petrelli, Hiro Nakamura and Ando Masahashi.

* * *

**Unknown Location**

**That Same Time**

Consciousness returned slowly to Issac Mendez. The first thing he became aware of was that he was cold, and was lying on something that was both hard and cold. He opened his eyes slowly, and was met with almost total blackness. The only light was coming from somewhere overhead, creating a circle of illumination around him. He sat up gradually, finding that he was on a cold concrete floor. He looked around.

There was nothing. All he could see beyond the circle of light was blackness—total, absolute blackness. It seemed to swallow everything.

_Where am I?_ he thought, feeling a tenderness on his neck. Reaching up, he recognized the telltale mark of an injection point—something he was all too familiar with. Though they had healed up and vanished now, they had been all over his arms when he had still been addicted to heroin.

He shuddered as he remembered that time-- the time when the drugs had been everything, the time that had, more than even his 'gift', driven his beloved Simone from him. Driven her into the arms of Peter Petrelli – the 'special' whose very nature seemed to doom him to destroy New York. It was a hell that he didn't care to remember – a hell that Eden, Bennett and The Company had saved him from.

Isaac shook off the memories, trying to puzzle out where the new injection mark had come from. After a few moments, recollection washed over him like in a tsunami.

He had been in his studio, deciphering the meanings of his most recent paintings, when four men had come into the studio. There had been something strange about them. From the moment they'd come in, he had felt an almost intuitive air of danger around them. Once, he wouldn't have thought anything of it. But ever since his gift had manifested itself, and he'd seen others demonstrate abilities, he had taken such feelings very seriously.

They had immediately started interrogating him about the last lot of paintings that Simone had taken to her gallery, especially about the paintings of the alien city. They had talked of the place as if it was real. They'd called it Atlantis.

He remembered that the men had ignored his repeated requests to leave him alone, and hadn't looked pleased when he had refused to answer their questions. When he threatened to summon the police, the men had attacked him. Isaac had struggled. But the men had been strong amazingly, inhumanly strong. One of them had pressed something against the side of his neck. There had been a stab of pain, then, nothing at all.

_Who were those guys? Why were they interested in that painting? And why did they drug me?_

Growing angry, he got to his feet. He began to explore, wanting see if he could find a way to escape. If he could contact Bennett, he could be able to get some help.

The moment he reached the edge of the circle of light, something warm and solid slammed into him and sent him flying back onto the floor in the centre of the circle.

_What the--?_

He got to his feet. He walked forward, more cautiously this time, and extended his hand out in front of him. The moment his hand reached the edge of the circle, it encountered the invisible, yet solid, barrier again. The air around his hand glowed and rippled with a translucent blue light that spread out, revealing a shimmering, crystalline curve.

Stunned, Isaac pulled his hand back, gaping at the invisible field.

_It's a force field,_ he thought. _But how? Force fields are science fiction; they're not possible in real life._

"You once thought _superpowers _were impossible as well," he reminded himself. "Yet here you are, able to paint the future."

At that moment, a clanking sound drew his attention. A door on the far side of the room – or at least what he assumed to be a room – appeared. A human silhouette walked past it. Spotlights appeared, outlining a path to the doorway. As the figure approached Isaac, the lights illuminated his appearance.

His visitor was a tall man with black hair. He had a handsome, moustachioed face, and carefully manicured beard. The man's eyes were cold and calculating—lacking humanity. It was what Isaac imagined looking into Sylars eyes would be like. The man had the same air of danger about him as the ones who'd abducted Isaac. The man exuded a menacing aura—thick and sinister—that seemed to contaminate the air around him.

The man reached the edge of the force field and studied Isaac closely. He didn't speak. His gaze made Isaac feel like a bug—like he was something being examined through a microscope. Summoning up his courage, Isaac met the man's gaze.

"Who are you?" Isaac demanded. "Why have you brought me here?"

The man smiled slightly, and Issac took a startled step back as the man's eyes glowed with a whitish gold light.

"**I ask the questions here, Human,"** the man said in a deep, distorted voice. It didn't sound even remotely human. **"But to answer your question: I am your God. I am Baal. You would be wise to bow down before me and answer my questions."**

Issac bristled at the arrogance in Baal's voice. "I owe you no answers," he said. "And for a 'god', you aren't very impressive."

The man shook his head slightly. **"You Tau'ri-- always so confident in yourselves. You do not accept your place in the universe,"** he said, a touch of irony in his voice. **"Kneel before me, Human."**

Isaac stood still, not about to give this arrogant man the satisfaction of doing what he wanted. Baal sighed and nodded to someone that Isaac couldn't see in the shadows. Footsteps echoed in the darkness, as Baal fiddled with a metallic device that wrapped around his right hand and forearm.

The force field between them suddenly flashed and rippled with blue light, before retracting into the ceiling. Before Isaac could move, two men appeared behind him. They grabbed both of his shoulders and forced Isaac down onto his knees. Baal stood over him and looked down, a cruel sneer on his handsome face.

"**Now then, Human," **Baal said. **"Tell me everything that you know about Atlantis."**

"I don't know what you're talking about," Isaac said.

Rather than answer him directly, Baal opened his right hand. Isaac could see a strange orange jewel in his palm. Baal held it over Isaac's head. It glowed brightly from within, and a glowing ribbon of energy sprang from the device to Isaac's forehead. Pain blasted through his skull – pain far worse than anything that Isaac had experienced in his entire life. It was far worse than the agony of the withdrawal symptoms he'd experienced when Eden and Bennett had gotten him off the heroin. It felt like there were a billion searing hot needles digging into his brain – like his nervous system was on fire.

Isaac screamed.

Baal withdrew his hand. The pain stopped. **"I ask you again, Human. Tell me everything that you know about Atlantis. How did you know what it looked like? To paint it, you would have to know. Tell me everything you know."**

"I don't know what you're talking about," Isaac repeated. He got the distinct impression that telling this man about his abilities would be a very bad idea.

"**Insolence," **Baal said, holding his hand device over Isaac one more. He activated it.

Isaac screamed as the pain returned. It went on and on and on, tearing at his sanity. After about half a minute, Baal withdrew his hand. **"Answer my question, Human. What do you know of Atlantis?"**

Isaac glared up at Baal, gasping and wincing. His throat was raw from screaming. Baal started to raise his hand towards him again, taking his silence as a sign of further defiance.

"No!" Issac exclaimed. "Please. No more."

"**Tell me what I wish to know. You have my word that there will be no more pain if you do," **Baal said. **"What do you know about Atlantis?"**

"Only that it's an ancient legend," Issac replied. "It's not real."

"**You lie. Atlantis is real-- very real. Your legends are based on real events. The city you painted is **_**real**_**, located on a planet four million light years from here, in another galaxy. How did you know what it looked like?"**

"I can't tell you," Isaac replied.

"**Oh, but you will."**

"No., I won't."

"**Yes, you will."** Baal raised his hand device once more and activated it at a slightly higher intensity than before. It was enough to cause more pain, but not enough to kill.

The screams began once again.

* * *

**USAF Odyssey**

**Five Minutes Later**

Colonel Samantha Carter smiled as she finally found the time index on the security camera tape that showed the escape of their 'guests'. It had been relatively easy to find it once she compared the time index to the time the main computer reported the tripping of the security alert. But what she had seen when she reviewed the two minutes was surprising to say the least. It was incredible even for her – a ten-year veteran of the Stargate Program.

"I found it," she said to the rest of her team. Cameron, Daniel, Teal'c and Vala gathered around her, arranging themselves so they could all see the computer screen. A click with the computer's mouse started the security log.

For a few moments, all they saw was the corridor that made up the final part of the storage area for the _Odyssey's_ lower decks. Then, the door of the storage compartment at the end of the corridor began to shake and rattle in its frame. It remained that way for a few seconds, before its hinges ripped apart and it flew clean away, propelled by some unknown force. For the next few moments, nothing more happened. Then, three marines appeared, running down the corridor towards the opened door. Something invisible threw all three of them back, causing them to collide hard with the bulkhead. And slump unconscious to the floor.

"What was _that_?" asked Cameron, as the second door in that corridor repeated the actions of the first one.

"Telekinesis, sir," Sam replied. "Telekinesis that's almost as strong as a Prior's. Just keep watching, sir. There is a lot more to see."

Cameron nodded as the third door followed the pattern that had begun. This time, Ando Masahashi stepped out. He said something, but the lack of an audio feed made it unintelligible. Peter Petrelli appeared next to him, materialising out of thin air.

"How could he _do_ that?" Vala asked. "We searched them all when they were brought onboard. None of them had a personal cloaking device."

"Unknown," Sam answered. "But that is not all that he can do."

Onscreen, Ando and Peter walked down the corridor. They stopped at the marines as one started to sit up. Peter looked at him, and the marine was thrown back down. It was done with enough force to knock him out for a second time.

"Invisibility, telekinesis and, from what he seemed to do to me down on the planet, telepathy. What the hell _is_ he?" Cameron asked. "He's not a Prior. I mean, he sure as hell doesn't look like one, and he didn't give us a ton of that religious 'hallowed are the Ori, embrace Origin' claptrap that they always spout."

"He's not a Prior," Daniel agreed. "But he isn't the normal guy his file seems to indicate, either."

_I knew it,_ Daniel thought. _I knew we were missing something-- but this?_

Like the rest of SG-1, he continued to watch the computer screen as Peter ripped another door off its hinges with his telekinetic abilities, releasing Hiro Nakamura. Daniel noted, however, that it took him longer to rip the door off this time. His body posture indicated that he was starting to tire; using his abilities for such a difficult task was having a debilitating effect on him.

_Whatever else he may be, he definitely tires as readily as any normal human, _Daniel thought.

They all watched as Ando handed Hiro the katana that had been taken from him. Daniel had been meaning to recover from the lower storage bays and to take back to his lab at the SGC to examine it. He'd noticed a very strange symbol on the hilt, and had wanted to find out where it came from—what it meant. Now it looked like he wasn't going to get the chance. Peter, Ando and Hiro were moving closer together, so close that they were almost touching. Then, with all the fuss of a bursting soap bubble, they vanished as if they had never been there.

"Where did they go?" Cameron asked. "It looks like they cloaked, but they didn't have anything on them that could have been used to do it. They didn't have a cloaking device."

"Nothing that _we_ would understand as a personal cloaking device, at least," Daniel pointed out. "It could well be an unknown piece of alien technology that looks like a piece of personal jewellery. It's also possible they're, well, capable of going invisible by themselves."

"This is insane. Have we gated into The Twilight Zone, or something?" Cameron asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "People with superpowers—It's like something out of a T.V show."

"However unbelievable it is, they _have_ gone invisible. It's very likely that they're still on the ship somewhere. There have been no unauthorised launches or transports off the ship," Carter said. "We can get some TER's sent up here from the SGC and sweep the whole ship section by section."

"The _whole ship_?" Daniel asked, looking at Sam incredulously.

"There is no other way," Sam answered. "The ship's internal scanners don't have the capability to penetrate a personal cloaking field of any kind."

"Get those TER's sent up here," Cameron ordered. "I'll talk to Colonel Davidson and get as many people as possible into teams. How many TER's are there in the SGC's arsenal?"

"Twelve," Daniel answered before Sam could. "That's all the Tok'ra could provide us with around the time of our first encounter with the Re'tou Rebels. Twelve TER's to search this whole ship…Even if we _had_ one for each team, it would take hours to search every nook and cranny."

"Ugh…what's a TER?" Vala asked.

"They speak of a Transphase Eradication Rod," Teal'c answered. Vala nodded in understanding. When she'd still been a Goa'uld host, she'd seen Transphase Eradication Rods in action. They had been used against both the Re'tou, and the odd Ashrak sent after her by rival System Lords.

"Those things…" Vala said. "Daniel's right. It's going to take hours to search this entire vessel if we use them."

"Then what are we standing around for?" Cameron asked. "Let's get started. Carter, Jackson—you get those TER's beamed up here from the SGC. Teal'c, Vala—come with me. We'll have to talk to Colonel Davidson about borrowing some members of the crew for awhile."

The members of SG-1 nodded and left to attend to their assigned tasks. All of them quietly hoped that they would find their elusive, seemingly superpowered 'guests' sooner rather than later. It was not going to be easy. The _Odyssey_ was a very big ship, especially when you were looking for three people who did not wish to be found.

It was imperative to reveal where Peter Petrelli, Hiro Nakamura and Ando Masahashi were hiding.

The security of the whole Stargate program depended on it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Gods Among Us**

**Chapter Ten**

**Atlantis **

**That Same Time**

Doctor Rodney McKay stood quietly on the end of the northern facing pier of Atlantis, looking out at the seemingly endless expanse of Lantea's ocean. A soft breeze, rich with the scents of the ocean, ruffled his hair gently. The sun slowly descended below the horizon, painting the sky with a million hues of pink, red and gold. He'd long ago discovered that coming out here was a very relaxing way to end a trying day. Today had been one of those days.

The damage sustained in the third tower was extreme, and would take a very long time to repair. He had been drawing up the repair schedule. It was hard and emotionally harrowing work—some of the scientists who had died in the third tower had been his friends. Knowing that he, and others who had known them, would be working in the areas where they'd died – repairing it as much as their skills would allow…it was not an easy thing to cope with.

On top of that, there had been the revelation that Major Lorne had superhuman abilities – abilities that came from somewhere in his DNA. And these changes weren't induced by advanced technology or genetic manipulation by an advanced race. In his free moments, Rodney hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. The scientist in him was fascinated by the notion that superpowers were real, and he wanted to understand how it was possible. He was no geneticist, but he would love to get a look at Lorne's DNA. Look for answers to the questions that kept popping into his head—like how this man was able to move at such high speeds when every physical law Rodney knew said he should not be able to.

He had to confess that he was a little jealous; there had been a number of recent occasions when he'd wished he had a superpower. It would help him cope with the tons of paperwork that seemed to materialise out of nowhere.

Rodney sighed, trying to push it out of his mind. He let the soft roaring of the ocean waves relax him, as it always did. But the curiosity about Lorne, or rather the existence of real superpowers, refused to leave him alone. It had been awhile since he'd read Activating Evolution, but he could recall most of what it had said. It had him wondering, especially now that the existence of people with powers had been confirmed to be true; wondering if the late Chandra Suresh was indeed correct, and that the humans of Earth were evolving to a more advanced level. It was fascinating to consider – and suggested to Rodney that, while they were the second evolution of the Ancients, they were also evolving on their own, separate path. It was a fascinating concept, and it had the scientist in him wondering what they would become in generations to come.

The sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention, and Rodney glanced over to where they were coming from. He smiled when he saw who it was.

"Hello, Carson," he said, frowning slightly in concern when he saw telltale signs of exhaustion in the Scotsman's expression and posture. He knew Carson was having a hard time with the recent influx of wounded personnel, but that shouldn't have had such a profound effect on the man. Carson, Rodney realized, had not been sleeping for some reason.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned. Carson was his best friend in the whole city. The man seemed to have the knack for getting under his skin, brushing aside the manner that came off as arrogance, and seeing the person underneath. Next to his sister, no one had ever been able to do that (though Sam Carter had come close). Having someone he could talk to—_really _talk to – was something he appreciated deeply.

Carson sighed as he reached where Rodney was standing. "Not really, Rodney," he admitted, trying to ignore the exhaustion pulling at him as much as possible. It wasn't easy. Since leaving Elizabeth, he had spent most of the day battling to save the life of one of the most critically wounded expedition members. That, coupled with the constant bombardment of emotions from the rest of the injured, as well as his own staff, had stressed him to the limit. His mental shields were barely holding together now. He needed to sleep, but he knew himself – he wouldn't be able to until he got his thoughts off of his chest.

"What's wrong, Carson?" Rodney asked, his worry causing his brows to crease in a frown. The last two days had been very hard on all of them, but Carson and his medical team had borne the brunt of it – bombarded by a flood of the dead, dying and wounded. It must have been taking its toll.

"I'm just tired, Rodney," Carson replied. "It's not been a very good day. I've spent the last few hours trying to save a man's life. We managed to bring him back, but the patient is still in critical condition."

Rodney nodded. "But that's not all that's bothering you is it, Carson?"

"No. It isn't," he replied. He sighed softly. "Though I could ask you the same question, Rodney. You seem bothered by something as well."

Rodney sighed as well, but knew better than to deny it. "It's Lorne," he said. "Or, more precisely, what he _is_. I mean, he's a real-life superhuman. He hasn't been artificially granted powers like in the case of an Ori Prior—he was actually _born_ with them. I can't stop thinking about it, wondering what it means for humanity as a species."

"It is pretty amazing," Carson agreed, his mouth spreading into a knowing smile. He understood Rodney's feelings all too well. He had felt them himself when he'd first met Carolyn and learned that there were more people like him out there.

Knowing what he knew now only made the appearance of metahumans like himself and Evan even more surprising. Everything he knew about human genetics, and Ancient genetics, indicated that there shouldn't be any 'superpowers' in Earth humans. Not yet, at least. And what was more, there were so many _different_ abilities – abilities that, in many cases, were completely unlike what the Ancients themselves had possessed. He would be lying if he said that the prospect that they were evolving on similar, but at the same time different, line to the Ancients wasn't an exhilarating notion.

"I noticed in this morning's briefing you didn't seem surprised when Lorne told us what he could do," Rodney said. "Did you already know, Carson?"

"Yes, Rodney. I did. I've known about Evan's abilities since a few weeks after he was first assigned here after the siege. But I couldn't tell anyone."

"Doctor/patient confidentiality?"

"Something like that. But it also wasn't my secret to tell. We learned long ago that telling people about our powers is something best avoided, if possible."

"I understand," Rodney said. It took a moment for Caron's words to fully register. "Wait. You said '_our_' powers. You've got powers too?"

"Yes. I do," Carson said. "Though mine are…different to Evan's. I also haven't had them as long as him."

"You've never said anything."

"Before now, it never seemed to be the right time to bring it up. But you deserve to know, as long as you promise not to tell anyone else. Only two other people in Atlantis know what I am, and I would prefer to keep it that way."

"I guess Lorne is one," Rodney said. Carson nodded in affirmation. "Who's the other?"

"Elizabeth. I told her earlier today." Carson looked at Rodney. He was mildly surprised to sense that Rodney didn't appear hurt or angry with him, like Elizabeth had initially been. Instead he sensed shock, surprise and a growing curiosity. "Before I say anymore, will you promise me that you won't speak about this to anyone else?"

"Of course I won't," Rodney insisted. "I'll keep it a secret for as long as you want."

Carson smiled. "Thank you, Rodney. Now, I guess you have some questions for me."

"Yes," said Rodney. "Firstly: What can you do?"

"It's…complicated," Carson answered. "And it's going to take a bit of time to explain. We had better sit down-- this could take a while."

Rodney nodded and sat down on the edge of the pier, making himself as comfortable as the metal surface would allow. The soles of his feet dangled only a few centimetres above the line of the surf. Carson settled down beside him, and looked down at the waves for a moment. Then, he began to explain everything.

* * *

**Earth**

**That Same Time**

Peter Petrelli was confused. Very confused. The street he was on with Hiro and Ando didn't look like any New York street he had seen before, and he had seen a lot of his native city over the course of his life. The air seemed cooler than what he was used to less humid. And, try as he might, he couldn't spot any of New York's distinctive yellow cabs. It was too quiet. He hadn't heard anything aside from the car horns that had sounded when they had first materialised. He was beginning to wonder if they were in New York at all. He knew that Hiro's control over exactly when and where he teleported wasn't perfect.

"Something isn't right here," he said to his two companions. "This doesn't look like New York."

"It doesn't?" Ando asked.

"No. It doesn't. It's too quiet. Normally, you can't walk around New York for two seconds without hearing car horns going off. But I haven't heard anything in the last ten minutes. It's October, too—it should be warmer."

Hiro frowned slightly at the conversation. He opened his mouth to respond, but stopped short when the street opened out into a square. There were white-walled stone buildings all around, ornamental fountains, and, at one end, a massive stone column topped by a larger than life statue of a man. A man decked out in a British Royal Navy admiral's uniform from the Napoleonic era.

Peter's eyes went wide in shock as he took in the striking spectacle. He recognised it. He had seen it before on a family holiday when he and Nathan were still children. It was Nelson's Column.

They were in Trafalgar Square the heart of the British capital city.

"We're in London," he said, shocked.

"What?" Ando breathed. "How can you tell?"

"That statue is of Admiral Horatio Nelson. That means that this can only be Trafalgar Square."

"London! I aim for New York," Hiro said. His frown deepened, how had they ended up so far off course?

"It's okay, Hiro. No one's blaming you for ending up here," Peter said. "Trust me, I know how difficult it sometimes is to control our powers. We just need to find somewhere around here to sit down and think about what we're going to do next. The military will come after us as soon as they realise that we're gone."

_Especially now, _he thought._ We know something that we shouldn't—we're a security risk._

"And why would the military be after _you_? Haven't you got enough problems, Peter?" The voice, sarcastic and familiar, came out of nowhere. Hiro and Ando jumped in surprise. Spinning around, Peter saw nothing.

"Claude?" he asked.

A section of the air rippled for a moment, and then Claude Raines was _there_, leaning against the side of Nelson's Column, arms folded across his chest. He looked a little better than the last time Peter had seen him. The scruffy, hobo look was gone. Instead, Claude was dressed in a pair of jeans, a blue and white chequered shirt, and a leather jacket. He seemed considerably more at ease.

"Wow. Invisible Man!" Hiro exclaimed gleefully.

Claude ignored the Japanese man, focusing his attention on Peter. "I turn my back on you for five minutes and you get into trouble," Claude said, shaking his head. "What is it with empathic mimics? You're all trouble magnets. So, what have you gone and gotten yourself into _now_?"

Peter couldn't help but smile at the familiar tone in Claude's voice. "It's a long story," he said, looking at the crowds of people milling around. "And I'll think you'll agree this is not the best place to talk."

Claude nodded. "You're right," he said. "Very well. Come with me, all of you."

Claude turned and walked away, resisting the impulse to fade into his normal invisibility. Using his ability to hide away from the world was habitual now, it had been the only thing that had kept him alive since Bennett had tried to kill him. Going invisible now, however, would not be a good idea. Peter and his entourage would not be able to follow.

Peter followed a few paces behind him, careful to keep track of the usually invisible man. He remembered full well how anti-social Claude could be, but he seemed to be more accommodating at the moment. Instead, he was leading them somewhere through the bustling streets of a vast city. It was strange and slightly out of character for the Claude he remembered, but he seemed more comfortable here, as if he knew this was a safer place to hide than New York. This begged the question: Why he hadn't come back here in the first place? Why had he remained in New York, knowing that the Company could capture him?

_I'll ask him later,_ Peter thought. _I just hope that he'll give a straight answer._

"Where are we going?" Ando asked from behind Peter.

Claude glanced back. "Somewhere we can talk," he said, and continued to lead the way through the bustling streets of London.

**

* * *

**

Claude brought them to an apartment on the third floor of a building in the city's Soho district. The apartment was surprisingly spacious, with all the modern conveniences. The furniture was all light woods and cream coloured leather, the floor covered in light laminate wood with a few rugs here and there.

"Very nice," Peter said, looking around. "An apartment like this must be expensive. How can you afford it?"

"I have my ways," Claude answered. Peter frowned, and Claude noticed. "And no, it's not what you're thinking. You're not the only one who comes from a wealthy family, Peter."

"I see," Peter said, wondering why Claude had lived as a tramp for seven years if he'd had such immense wealth at his disposal. Claude was truly an enigma.

"Everyone sit down." Claude gestured to the three-piece suite. The three guests complied. Peter looked carefully at Claude.

"So, are you still having difficulties with your powers, Peter?" Claude asked.

"A few," Peter admitted. "But I am getting better. That mental file card trick really works."

"Good, but if you're still having problems the 'card trick' is obviously not enough. We'll have to see what we can do about that," Claude said, his expression shifting into a grin.

Peter grimaced slightly, knowing that 'doing something about it' meant more training with Claude. Training that was going to be every painful. But he could bare it, especially if it helped him save New York from himself.

Claude laughed slightly at the look on Peter's face. "Now then, tell me what you've gone and done to get yourselves into trouble with the US military."

"As I said before-- it's a long story."

"Then I suggest you start at the beginning, and be as succinct as possible," Claude said, settling down in one of the chairs and giving the trio on the couch a pointed, expectant look.

Peter, Hiro and Ando looked at each other for a moment, trying to decide who would start. Finally, Peter opened his mouth and began their tale.

"It all began when we went to see Isaac Mendez…"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

**Claude's Apartment**

**London, One Hour Later**

Claude Raines sat in shocked, amazed silence on the sofa, for one of the very few times in his life rendered completely and utterly speechless. Peter had finished narrating his tale about how he and his two companions had ended up here in London a short time ago and what a tale it was. Real life spaceships, energy weapons, a real life teleportation system that sounded like something right out of Star Trek or Doctor Who, it was so fantastic that it was difficult to believe. Though the fact that the United States military was deliberately hiding it from the rest of the planet was something Claude could well believe.

After a few moments he shook his head. "Incredible," he said looking up at Peter. "Had anyone else told me this I wouldn't have believed it. There is one thing I don't understand if this ship was in orbit how did you get back down here to Earth."

"I bring us here," Hiro Nakamura answered, he had jumped in a few times in Peter's narration and Claude found himself actually quite liking the Japanese man. There was innocence in him that had long vanished in most people he had encountered. "I aiming for New York but somehow end up here."

"Hiro has abilities as well, Claude," Peter said with a smile. "And I think you'll agree that they're quite unique."

Claude looked at Hiro in interest. "Oh? What can you do, Mr Nakamura?"

"Hiro can bend the space-time continuum," Ando answered. "Allowing him to freeze or slow down time and teleport instantly through space-time to anywhere on Earth."

"Like Q in Star Trek," Hiro added grinning with child-like glee.

Claude's eyebrows shot up in shock and surprise. "You can manipulate the space-time continuum," he repeated looking at Hiro, and then shook his head. "Damn I'm impressed, I've seen a lot of different abilities in my time everything from pyrokinetics to empathic mimics like Peter here," he jerked a thump in Peter's direction, "but I've never heard of that kind of ability before. And you are right it is just like something that Q could do."

Hiro looked at Claude in interest. "You like Star Trek?" he asked.

"It's not bad," Claude answered. "But I prefer Doctor Who myself." Hiro smiled then looked curiously at Claude. "What?" Claude asked.

"Nothing," Hiro replied. "You just look like time lord."

"So I've been told," Claude answered then sighed. "But we are getting a bit off track here. You do realise that the American military is going to be after the three of you now. They'll want you silenced."

"There is that possibility," Peter admitted with a concerned frown. That had occurred to him and while he wouldn't hesitate to defend himself if Colonel Mitchell and his posse came after him, he was worried how it would effect Nathan's Congressional campaign, if the military moved against Nathan at all. He knew if he messed up his brother's campaign Nathan would never forgive him. "But we couldn't just stay on the ship and let them do whatever they wanted to us, though I guess there is a lot more the military is involved in. Also four of the people with that arrogant asshole Colonel Mitchell were really strange."

"Strange how," Claude asked.

"I was using the telepathy I picked up from Matt Parkman," Peter explained, at Claude's look he explained more. "Matt's a cop who as far as I know is working with the FBI to catch Sylar, he and a FBI agent called Audrey Hanson interrogated me when I was in Odessa, Texas. Matt's telepathic, he tried to my mind and of course I was doing the same thing without realising it. As a result we both got the mother of all migraines."

"Interference," Claude said knowingly. "Happens when telepaths try to read each other, its sort of like radio signals interfering with each other. Now what were you saying about these four people?"

"I couldn't hear their thoughts at all," Peter replied. "They were complete telepathic voids."

"That's strange, their was no interference," Claude asked thinking of that Haitian kid the Company had 'recruited' just before he severed his acquaintance with them, and got shot by Noah Bennett for his trouble.

"Nothing just silence, as far as telepathy was concerned they weren't there," Peter answered. "There not like us I didn't feel myself absorbing any abilities from them. But we're getting off track again."

"Yes we are," Claude agreed. "The question now is what are the three of you going to do next? It will be very difficult for you to stay ahead of the US military for long."

Peter glanced over at Ando and Hiro, and got nothing but shrugs in return. The truth be told they hadn't thought that far ahead. _I should have thought of something before we even got off the Odyssey,_ Peter thought mentally kicking himself.

Seeing the looks passing between the other three men Claude sighed. "You don't have any ideas do you," he said. Peter gave him a sheepish look and shook his head. Claude sighed and shook his head again. "You three have so much to learn," he said in an exasperate tone of voice, before standing up again. "Very well come with me. I'll take you to some people who can help you."

Peter raised an eyebrow as he also stood up. "Who are these people, Claude," he asked.

"You'll see," Claude replied with a mysterious smile before heading towards the door. Peter, Hiro and Ando exchanged looks and shrugs before following him, the three of them wondering just what they were getting themselves into.

* * *

**Baal's Secret Base**

**That Same Time**

Baal sat in thoughtful silence on his throne in what had once been the commander's office of the old nuclear bunker. The room was a bit small for his taste – nothing like the grand throne room of his old palaces – but it would do. For now, until he was able to take over control of this world and use the Tau'ri to rebuild his empire. The object of his thoughts; Issac Mendez, had not been very cooperative even under the full force of his hand device. The man had refused point blank to answer any questions, before giving in to the pain inflicted by the ribbon of energy from the hand device and loosing consciousness.

The lack of progress was annoying but Baal had learned long ago that the Tau'ri were the most intransigent bunch of their kind in the galaxy. Breaking Issac to learn what he knew about Atlantis and the Stargates was going to take some time using traditional Goa'uld methods. _I wish I had one of those mind probes,_ he thought with a sigh, with that miraculous device of Anubis' he would have been able to learn all of Issac's secrets in short order. But annoyingly that technology had been lost when the Free Jaffa Nation had overrun Anubis' primary planet. Still he didn't mind too much, it had been sometime since he'd had a real challenge in interrogations.

The sudden ringing of the mobile phone he kept in one of the pockets of his robes made Baal jump slightly. Retrieving the offending device he glanced at the screen to see that it was his agent in Stargate Command calling him. These mobile phones of the Tau'ri were certainly an interesting and useful technology, especially with the right modifications. In the time he and his various clones had been on this planet they had gotten quite used to them. Accepting the call Baal brought the device to his ear.

"**Report,"** he ordered.

"My lord there has been developments with events regarding Atlantis," the programmed human on the other end reported. "There has been a major explosion in the city in the last two days."

"**Interesting,"** Baal answered, already intrigued beyond measure. He knew Issac's paintings had depicted an explosion in the lost city of the Ancients; had it now happened? If it had then the potential ramifications were… interesting to say the least. **"Continue with your report."**

"Yes my lord. The explosion has claimed the lives of a considerable number of people in Atlantis, but that is not the most interesting fact about it. Camera footage of the damage to Atlantis shows it is almost completely identical to the damage portrayed in the paintings Issac Mendez did."

Baal's eyebrows shot up. **"Very interesting,"** he said hiding the fact that his thoughts were reeling as whole new possibilities began to occur to him. **"Is there more?"**

"Yes my lord. A short time ago General Landry received a message from the _Odyssey,_ currently orbiting the planet. Colonel Mitchell and SG-1 had taken three people up to the _Odyssey _from New York. Apparently they were confronted by them when they went to talk to Mr Mendez. One appeared to use advanced telekinetic abilities while on the ship, breaking himself and the other two out of their cells. All three then vanished, Colonel Carter believes that they cloaked themselves somehow. The entire supply of Transphase Eradication Rods in the SGC's inventory has been sent up to the _Odyssey_. They are currently searching the entire ship for the fugitives."

"**Keep me informed," **Baal instructed. **"You have done very well; now return to your duties before somebody suspects you."**

"Yes my lord," the agent answered before disconnecting the call from his end.

Baal returned his own phone to its place in his robes and leaned back on his throne in thoughtful silence for a few moments. The information that had just been given to him was very interesting indeed, more so than anything else he had so far learned in his time on this planet. He mentally reviewed it all a man who could seemingly paint the future, another who seemed to be a powerful telekinetic without being an Ori Prior, that same man and two others seemingly able to cloak themselves. It all pointed to one thing and one thing alone; that some Tau'ri were more biologically advanced than had been thought possible, which meant that they had to potential to be hoktar, the advanced host form that all Goa'uld desired.

Baal forced himself to think logically, despite his rising excitement at the possibility of advanced hosts. He had to confirm if it was true, and the best way would be to get that answer out of Issac Mendez quickly. Quietly he mulled over just how to do that, it was already obvious that the Human was not going to buckle under torture anytime soon. He didn't want to use one of the cloned symbiotes that he had either, if this turned out to be a dead end and Issac wasn't a hoktar it would be a waste of a perfectly good symbiote. It was a bit of a dilemma; then the answer came to him and he smiled. He had just the thing to make Issac talk, talk and worship him in the process.

Rising Baal left the room with an evil grin on his face, soon very soon now he would learn all of Issac's secrets.

* * *

**Issac's Cell**

Issac lay on the floor of his cell, breathing heavily as he tried his best to ignore the incredible pain in his head and body. He had only just regained consciousness and was already wishing that he hadn't, his whole nervous system seemed to be complaining, voicing its protest at the intense battering that weird energy beam had subjected it to.

As he lay there he found himself wondering how he was going to get out of here, or call for help from Bennett and The Company. He knew they had other superpowered people in their ranks – like that weird mute Haitian dude who was always with Bennett – surely one of them would be powerful enough to get him out of here. _But there is no way to call for help,_ Issac thought, _somehow I don't think this freaky voiced guy, Baal, is going to allow me my freedom ever again. I know too much now._

The memory of his last painting flashed through his mind, bringing with it a chill of fear. The painting had been of a stylised version of himself in some dark place with a green gas surrounding him. _Is that how Baal is going to kill me,_ Issac thought shuddering, _with toxic gas._ _Why cant he be quick about it and just shoot me._

The door to the dark room beyond the perimeter of light that was his cell appeared. A figure appeared as a dark shadow against the brilliant backdrop, and Issac didn't have to be told who it was. Despite the pain still stabbing through him, like a billion red hot needles, he forced himself to stand up and glare defiantly, proudly at Baal as the man – if that was what he was – approached circles of light appearing ahead of him to light the way.

"I suppose your going to kill me now," Issac said as Baal came to a stop at the invisible periphery of the force field that formed the walls of Issac's cell.

Baal smiled softly. **"Oh no Human, that would serve no point," **Baal answered in that weirdly modulated, deep voice of his. **"And it would be a waste of a useful resource. I know what you are now, and you will tell me everything about your remarkable ability, and about anymore like you."**

"What abilities are you talking about," Issac asked, lying easily, knowing he could never admit to this man, alien or whatever he was that he had superhuman abilities. If he did he would put everyone else like him in danger, especially The Company. After all they had done for him he couldn't do that to them.

"**Don't insult my intelligence, Issac Mendez. I know you have precognitive abilities. You will tell me everything about them."**

"Suppose for a second I do have these abilities," Issac replied. "What makes you think I would tell you about them, Mr I Am Your God?"

Baal merely smiled, refusing to be baited by the Human in front of him. His insolence was more amusing than anything else. **"You wont have a choice," **he replied and pressed a part of his hand device.

For a moment nothing happened then slots opened in the floor at Issac's feet and with a serpentine hissing sound tongues of shimmering green gas began to jet into the cell. Issac looked down at the gas in terror, and then looked up at Baal guessing that the human shaped monster wanted him to beg, but he would not do that.

"You know killing me wont gain you anything," Issac said in a voice of calm acceptance as the level of heavier than air gas started to rise, filling the tube formed by the force field.

Baal just smiled wider then laughed in amusement. **"Who said anything about killing you, Mr Mendez,"** he asked as the gas reached Issac's face and his own breathing motions started to inhale it.

Strangely the gas brought no pain as it started going up his nose, Issac would have expected it to be painful. Instead it brought a strange, blissful sensation as it travelled down his windpipe and into his lungs. He wasn't choking or gasping for breath like you saw all the time in movies, quite the opposite he found himself inhaling more and more of the substance as the blissful feeling began to spread. Beginning to feel sleepy, Issac stumbled then fell to his knees, he tried to tell himself to get up again, but he couldn't make his body obey him. A strange fuzziness that was almost like a drug high was settling over his nerves, instead of standing he fell completely onto his back. Increasingly feeling sleepy he closed his eyes, and descended into a blissful, relaxing sleep.

Baal's smiled turned into a pleased grin as he watched the cloud of the nishta organism be absorbed into Issac's body, permeating every part of the human's form so no where was left uninfected. When he woke up again Issac Mendez would be completely in his power, and would gladly tell him everything that he knew about his superhuman abilities. As the last of the nishta was absorbed Baal deactivated the force field and clapped his hands once. Two former Trust operatives appeared out of the darkness that concealed them.

"**Take him to guest chambers," **Baal ordered, **"and dress him in appropriate attire."**

"**Yes, Lord Baal," **the minor Goa'uld inside the more senior of the two ex-Trust operatives replied, before both men picked Issac up and carried him out of the room. Baal followed a few paces behind them to return to his throne while he waited for the word that his newest, loyal disciple was awake. _Soon,_ he thought, _soon I will know all of Issac Mendez's secrets._

* * *

**London**

**England, A Short Time Later**

Peter, Hiro and Ando followed Claude down the bustling streets of London for what seemed like ages until they descended into one of the cities many subway stations.

"Ah, Claude why are we going in the subway," Peter asked as they started down the steps, leaving the bright autumn sunshine behind and entering the harsh domain of fluorescent lighting.

"You will see soon enough, Peter," Claude replied as they made there way down into one of the worlds oldest subway systems, known affectionately to every Londoner as 'the tube'. Peter scowled, he was getting a bit fed up with Claude's evasive answers, but he knew better than to call Claude on them, the real life invisible man was a stubborn mule. He wouldn't give any answers until he was ready.

So he kept quiet as the came to the bottom of the steps and came onto a busy ticket hall concourse, hundreds of people were milling about the station, purchasing tickets, descending and coming up from different platforms. It was a noisy, very normal scene; one Peter could see any day he wanted to by descending into one of New York's stations. He made sure he kept close to Claude, Hiro and Ando as they started to cross the bustling concourse. _Damn it where is Claude taking us,_ he thought, avoiding hitting people as he walked with practiced ease.

They reached the far side of the people packed concourse, and started down a corridor with a sign above it that indicated it lead to an emergency exit.

"Claude," Peter said.

"Not much further now, Peter," Claude replied inwardly smiling, knowing the American empathic mimic was starting to loose his patience. It was understandable as though he was hiding it Claude knew him well enough to see he was wound up tighter than a spring. _But then so would I if I'd just gone through what he, Hiro and Ando have been through with the US military,_ he thought, _especially if I had the problem with powers that Peter has._

He stopped walking at a door set into one wall of the long corridor to the stations emergency exit. A door with a 'authorised access only' sign on it and an electronic card lock by the side of it. Smiling Claude reached into his pocket and took out his electronic key card and swiped it through the lock. With an electronic click the door came open, revealing a narrow flight of stone steps leading downwards, only poorly lit by a few light strips spaced every few metres.

"This way," he said leading Peter and his companions into the stairwell. "Peter close the door behind us please," he instructed Peter, "everyone watch your step in here it's quite easy to fall and it's along way down."

Peter followed Claude's instructions and closed the heavy metal door behind them, hearing an electronic buzz and click as the locking mechanism engaged. Then he turned around and nodded to Claude who began leading them down into the dark, cold depths of the maze of tunnels and passages that existed beneath the vast, ancient metropolis that was London, some of the passages being so old, constructed so long ago, that they wouldn't show on any modern map of the underground and utility tunnel network.

"It's cold down here," Ando commented as they made their way down the steep stone steps, shivering slightly in the cold slightly damp air. It was a sharp contrast to the warm air of the station above them.

"It always is cold in here," Claude replied. "We're descending down to the deepest levels of the underground system, below sea level. But don't worry were in no danger of getting wet, powerful pumps keep the underground system from flooding, and it keeps these side tunnels dry as well."

"When we reach the bottom, what then Claude," Peter asked.

"We'll be going along a tunnel," Claude replied. "It will take us to the docklands area of the city. Our destination is located deep beneath Canary Wharf."

"That will be a long walk," Peter commented.

"Not really, there is always a quick means of travelling there waiting at the base of this stairwell."

"I don't suppose you'll tell us what that is," Peter said.

"No need. You'll see in just a few more minutes."

Claude was right there was a ride waiting for them at the base of the deep stone stairwell. Stepping out of the stairwell they found an open topped buggy sat there, waiting patiently. Claude went over to it and climbed into the driver's seat.

"Get in," he instructed and smiled when Peter, Hiro and Ando climbed in without hesitation. Curiosity about what was going on had gotten the better of them now, as Claude had known it would. Turning his attention to the dashboard, Claude pressed a button there and the buggy started moving of its own accord, followed a buried track in the ground with a humming of electric motors. "Hold on this is something of a ride," he said.

"Claude," Peter answered. "We've been quite patient, can you please tell us where were going."

Claude looked back at Peter and sighed, knowing Peter had run out of patience. "You're going to meet some friends," he said. "They help people like us."

"Like the Company," Peter asked. "I thought you severed your ties with them. I remember you tried to throttle me that time when that horned rim glasses guy found us."

Claude chuckled at the description of Bennett. "There not at all like The Company. And the guy you just talked about is my old Company partner. His name is Noah Bennett," he said. "But yes I did sever my association with The Company along time ago. I got tired of hunting my own kind for the benefit of Linderman and the others."

"Linderman is in charge of The Company," Peter asked, he hated Linderman with a vengeance knowing that he was somehow responsible for his fathers death. Hatred of Linderman was one of the few things he and Nathan unreservedly agreed upon these days, though Nathan was actually doing something about it by working with the FBI. At least he had been the last time Peter had seen him.

"Yes," Claude answered. "He's like us. He originally founded the Company to help the world; he had a noble vision how to help. But it lost its way, whatever he's plotting now I'm sure he thinks it will help heal the world but mark my words it won't go the way he wants it to go."

"Linderman like us," Hiro repeated. "What he able to do?"

"He can heal any injury, revive the sick or dying and completely heal them with just a touch," Claude answered. "There are many secrets, secrets that it is now not the time or the place to speak about though you deserve to know them, especially you Peter as dear Angela obviously hasn't bothered to tell you. She always was aloof and aristocratic, though she does have a softer side, which she shows far too infrequently as she's always plotting something."

Peter's eyebrows shot up. "You know my mother," he asked.

"Of course I do, she was there are the beginning of The Company, as was your father. They were both like us; you and Nathan are second generation."

Peter's eyes widened slightly, the fact that his parents had powers had never occurred to him before, though it certainly explained where his, Nathan's and Claire's powers originally came from. Before he could ask Claude any questions about them the car came to a stop at some kind of station.

"Come," Claude said, standing up and getting out. One by one Peter, Hiro and Ando followed him. "Before you ask this part used to be an underground station, but not one that will show on any map, this line was abandoned and sealed up beyond this station years ago."

"Why was the station abandoned," Ando asked as they made their way to the stations escalators but were just steps now, the escalator frozen in time like some metallic fossil.

"Publicly because they discovered there is a fault in the rock that would have let the Thames flood the tunnel had they continued drilling," Claude answered leading them up the steps. "The real reason, the station was turned into a nuclear shelter during the darkest days of the Cold War."

They reached the top of the escalators to find a wall with a large metal door in it blocking their way. The door had an electronic swipe card lock and palm scanner beside it. Peter watched as Claude operated it, beginning to wonder had he really known Claude at all. Was the man a secret agent or something like that? A buzzer sounded and the heavy metal door – which was a good two metres thick slowly swung open, a young woman stood on the other side with a smile.

"Hello Claude," she said then looked Peter and company. "And hello Peter Petrelli, Hiro Nakamura and Ando Masahashi. Yes we know a little bit about you, especially you Mr Petrelli you are quite a difficult person to keep track of mostly because of Mr Invisibility here," she gave Claude a pointed look that made the normally gruff man laugh. "Mr Nakamura you've been less so, even with your impressive ability."

"You've been tracking me," Peter asked.

"Trying to, ever since Claude told us about you. We wanted to help you though our resources in America are finite, especially as we have The Company and the US government to dodge. Though those CIA and NSA guys are not as good as they like to think they are."

"Who are you," Peter asked, his mind reeling, something telling him that his already complicated life was about to change forever.

"Oh forgive me I've been rude," the woman answered. "Laura Hamilton-Ward at your service, please come inside, as you may have noticed it's a bit drafty out here."

"What's in there," Peter asked before Hiro or Ando could ask the same question.

"Help, Peter," Claude answered. "Help in more ways than one. They will help in your current situation and with your other problem. You've got nothing to loose, please come inside."

Peter hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged. "Oh what the hell," he said. "Things can't get any worse can they?" Without further hesitation he stepped forward and crossed the door threshold, Hiro and Ando looked at each other for a moment, shrugged and followed. Laura smiled.

"Welcome to the Network," she said as they entered with Claude following. Automatically the door began to close.

"And what is The Network," Peter asked. "You're not like The Company are you?"

"Oh good heavens no," Laura replied. "We're here to help people, Mr Petrelli. Especially metahumans like you and Mr Nakamura."

"Meta-what?" Ando asked.

"Metahumans, it's a better name for people with superpowers than 'specials' or 'supermen'," Laura answered as the door closed.

"And how exactly do you help," Peter asked.

"By offering support, guidance, and instruction on how to control your powers," Laura answered.

"How," Hiro asked.

"All in good time Mr Nakamura," Laura said smiling mysteriously before leading them deeper inside. "All in good time."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

**USAF Odyssey**

**A Few Minutes Later**

"Nothing," Colonel Cameron Mitchell said in frustration as he and Teal'c finished sweeping the last section of the _Odyssey_ with their TER. He had split his team up and together with ships personnel they had begun searching the ship for their wayward, somehow cloaked guests. There was one TER to each two man team, the other member had a P90 rifle just in case their 'guests' tried to resist when they took them back to a holding area.

"It doesn't appear that our captives are in this section, Colonel Mitchell," Teal'c said. "It appears they have eluded us."

"That can't be," Cameron replied. "There is no way they could have gotten off this ship." With a sigh of frustration he activated his radio. "All search teams report."

"We've search all the compartments, corridors and crawlspaces in our section, Colonel," Sam Carter replied, her tone confused. "There is no sign of our guests anywhere."

"We've had no luck either," Daniel's voice chipped in, annoyance still present at this whole situation. Inwardly Cameron cringed, knowing Daniel was still annoyed with him for what he had done bringing Peter Petrelli and his two companions up to the ship in the first place. And the more he thought about it the more he reluctantly started to admit to himself that Daniel did have a good reason to be irritated with him, there had been other, better ways to deal with the situation down on the planet. Not that it would do any good now, hindsight was a wonderful, but useless, thing after all.

Cameron listened as all the other teams reported in, all searches were complete and there was no sign of Peter Petrelli, Hiro Nakamura or Ando Masahashi anywhere on the ship. Which meant only one of two things, either they had the best damned personal cloaking device in the galaxy – which was unlikely as not even Sodan personal cloaks could block a TER, or they had somehow, impossibly gotten off the ship without being detected by the _Odyssey's_ Asgard scanners.

"This can't be possible," Cameron groaned. "Where the hell are they?"

"Wherever they are is obvious there not on the ship," Daniel answered.

"We don't know that," Carter pointed out via the radio. "They could be hiding, though we've checked everywhere that we could think of."

"Trust me, Sam there not on the ship anymore. I don't think they've been for awhile."

"How can you be sure, Daniel," Sam asked just beating Cameron to the punch.

"I can't," Daniel answered simply. "It's just a feeling that there not here anymore, and haven't been for hours." Cameron glanced at Teal'c wondering what the big Jaffa made of this; Teal'c looked like he believed what Daniel was saying.

"They have to be on the ship," Cameron said. "Its humanly impossible for them to have left the ship without us detecting them."

"If they were, Human," Daniel replied. "Given what we saw them do up here and down on the planet when they somehow took our weapons from us I'm not at all sure they are Human at all. At least not as we understand the term."

"If there not Human then what could they be, Ancients?" Cameron wanted to know.

"Unlikely," Daniel replied. "We're missing something here, something big. But I do think its more than obvious that there not on the ship anymore. They've somehow gotten off."

Cameron sighed. "It's obvious but it should be impossible, this is not The Twilight Zone, people don't just vanish without a trace. And they don't show telekinetic powers either. Okay, ships personnel return to your normal duties. Daniel, Sam, Vala return to the briefing room. We'll have to talk more about this there and see what we can figure out. But first I'll have to stop by the bridge and have a word with General Landry."

"Yes, sir," Carter replied, echoed moments later by the ships personnel. Cameron released his radio, and sighed before leaving the room to go to the bridge. He was not looking forward to informing General Landry that they had failed to locate the three missing men – if that's what they were – and could only conclude that through some unforeseen means they'd left the _Odyssey_. He knew the general was not going to like it, nor would the IOA when they were informed, but he had to be told that security was breached. With another sigh Cam started to work out in his head just how he was going to explain everything to his superiors.

**

* * *

The Network Headquarters**

**That Same Time**

Peter Petrelli, Hiro Nakamura and Ando Masahashi grew increasingly confused as they followed the beautiful, but annoyingly evasive Laura Hamilton-Ward into a deserted place that from the look of it had once been the stations underground concourse.

"Where exactly are we going," Peter asked, his voice echoing slightly in the eerily quiet place. The dead silence was giving him the creeps, as was the fact that aside from this path they were walking down the room was nearly pitch black.

"You'll see, Peter," Claude answered as they came to the far side and found themselves facing a wooden door that definitely looked like it had seen better days. "You know I wish they would get around to replacing this door," he said as Laura opened it, revealing a platform lift beyond.

"I know the feeling but they keep saying it's not a priority," Laura answered as she led them all onto the platform lift. Taking a key from around her neck, she inserted it into the small control panel for the lift and turned it clockwise from twelve to six o'clock. A green light came on and the lift began its descent.

"Another minute or two then we can really sit down and talk," Laura said, addressing her comments to Peter, Hiro and Ando. "Then we can see how we can help you, especially you Mr Petrelli. You're running out of time."

"Believe me I know," Peter answered. "I've seen what's going to happen unless I can find away to stop it and know there is barely two weeks left."

"Yes, Claude told us before that you've seen it in dreams," Laura replied. "But don't worry, we'll help you learn to control your ability, Peter. We've helped four empathic mimics like you over the years since the Network was created control their abilities. It's difficult, and no two solutions are ever quite the same, but it can be done."

As Laura spoke a wave of cool relief settled on Peter, soothing his troubled soul, the fact that he was soon to somehow turn into a human nuke and blow New York apart had been praying on him non-stop for weeks now. Though he wasn't using telepathy at the moment he could tell somehow that Laura was telling the truth and that the Network would be able to help him with his problem.

"I already have some ideas how to control my abilities," Peter admitted, "thanks to Claude here and that mental filing cabinet trick he taught me. What I really need to know though is how to stop myself absorbing new abilities."

Laura smiled. "There are a number of ways to do that, though the exact solution is unique to each individual," she said. "But I don't believe you know all of your abilities yet, Peter. Especially given what Claude told us about that superpowered serial killer you encountered in Texas."

"Sylar," Peter replied. "His name is Sylar, the only ability of his I know anything about at the moment is telekinesis, I've gotten quite good with that."

"I figured you would," Claude said grinning. "Telekinesis is quite an easy one to control and it's quite a useful trick, as you found out when you were held captive."

"Who held you captive, it can't have been The Company, we would have detected their tracer immediately," Laura asked curiously, a moment before the platform lift came to the bottom of its shaft and they found themselves facing a metal door. "Never mind you can tell me in a couple of minutes," Laura added as the metal door automatically slid open letting in a cacophony or sound as well as bright artificial lighting. "This way please."

Carefully they all followed Laura away from the platform lift, into a place where dozens and dozens of people milled about, all heading in their own directions, occupied with their own concerns. "Stay close you don't want to get separated in this chaos," Laura said threading through the crowds with easy skill.

Carefully they followed her and in no time at all they were in another corridor away from the main area. "Sorry about that lot back there," she said. "Its shift change for the admin personnel and it gets somewhat hectic. Ah here we are." Laura opened the door to a small office and gestured for them all to enter.

Once they were inside she followed and closed the door behind them. "Now then," she said with a smile. "Tell me everything about who captured you and why and leave nothing out."

Peter, Hiro and Ando exchanged looks, deciding who would tell the tale this time. After a moment Peter sighed and for the second time today began narrating what had happened to them.

**

* * *

Oval Office**

**The White House, Washington**

**A Few Minutes Later**

President Henry Hayes sighed as he put the phone to the SGC down. General Landry had just informed him that the search of the _Odyssey_ had revealed nothing; there was no sign of the three missing men. Though he wasn't happy with the report Hayes wasn't particularly surprised, the whole thing with them had been a right mess from the start.

"They can't find them," he said looking up at the IOA representatives in the room with him. "They've searched the whole of the _Odyssey_ with Transphase Eradication Rods and there is no sign of them anywhere, they must have got off the ship somehow without us detecting them."

"What interests me is what they were doing on the ship in the first place," the French ambassador said leaning forwards slightly. "Colonel Mitchell should have never beamed them up to that ship the way he did. By doing that he just confounded the original security breach with another much bigger one. In addition he can be argued to have committed a very serious criminal offence. Kidnapping them cannot be justified."

"There will be time for recriminations later," Hayes answered. "The question now is how do we find these three men? They already know too much? And what do we do with them when we find them?"

"We could imprison them," Woolsey suggested.

"No I don't want to go down that route," Hayes answered. "Imprisoning them should be our very last resort."

"Then what do you suggest," Ambassador Li of China asked.

"We could do the thing that Colonel Mitchell and SG-1 – for all their skills – failed to do," Ambassador Lord Richard Raines from the UK replied. "We could talk to them, I am sure that we could persuade them to keep what they know about the SGC and Atlantis quiet. Though I admit I am curious as to how they can do what they can do. Especially how Mr Petrelli read Colonel Mitchell's mind the way he did."

"We all are," Hayes answered. "Very well if we all agree we will try talking to them after we find them. If it helps I might well talk to them myself. If that doesn't convey the importance of secrecy then nothing will."

The IOA delegates looked at each other for a moment then one by one they all nodded in agreement. They would try to talk to the three men in question, whenever they found them that was.

"So how do we find them," Ambassador Raines asked at last.

"I do have a suggestion," Hayes said. "The information uncovered by the SGC indicates that Mr Peter Petrelli is the younger brother of New York Congressional candidate Nathan Petrelli. He would be as good a place to start as any." Again the IOA members looked at each other and nodded.

"We agree," Woolsey answered for everyone. "But might I suggest whoever we send not be military. The SGC's lack of subtlety is not required in this situation."

"I was actually thinking about sending Colonel Davis to have a word with Nathan Petrelli," Hayes said. "You can accompany him if you wish Mr Woolsey." Woolsey nodded his head in reluctant agreement. "Now have there been any developments in the search for Issac Mendez?"

"I'm afraid not," Woolsey replied. "After Colonel Mitchell and his little posse beamed to the _Odyssey_ the NID went over the studio with a fine tooth comb. There was a hell of a struggle in there, we have picked up some DNA traces and are in the process of analysing it. But I am not holding out much hope of that revealing anything, whoever got to Mr Mendez before we did have covered there tracks well."

"The obvious suspects are The Trust," Colonel Chekov said speaking for the first time. "It is known that they still have contacts in the NID as well as having agents placed in the highest levels of all of our governments."

"If it's The Trust then its likely to be Baal who has him," Woolsey said scowling. "We know at least one of his clones has taken over leadership of the Goa'uld who infiltrated The Trust. That is not a pleasant prospect."

"No it isn't," Hayes agreed. "Have the NID redouble their efforts Richard. I just hope Colonel Chekov is wrong about The Trust."

"So do I, Mr President," Chekov answered. "So do I."

**

* * *

Atlantis**

**That Same Time**

Dr Carson Beckett sighed as he awkwardly adjusted the jacket of the formal suit he was wearing to the memorial service for everyone who had died in the explosion of two days ago. He was not looking forward to this, not only had be been friends with a number of the people who had been killed, but he always hated funerals and memorial services. Feeling everyone else's sadness on top of his own always made them a trial for him, and as good as his mental shields were these days at such close range he couldn't keep that much negative emotion out of his head for too long.

His door chimed for attention. "Come in," he called out, adjusting his black tie one last time. The door opened with its familiar humming sound and in the reflective surface of the mirror Carson saw Evan Lorne appear, looking very handsome in his dress uniform.

"You ready, Carson," Evan asked softly looking concerned at his friend. He knew Carson's abilities always made it difficult for him to be in large crowds, especially crowds that were charged with emotion, for to long.

"I'm ready, Evan," Carson replied with a sigh. "As ready as I can be for this."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Ask me afterwards," Carson answered with a smile as he turned away from the mirror and walked over to his friend and fellow metahuman. "Though you know where I'll probably be afterwards."

"One of the piers," Evan replied with a smile. "I know. I'll probably join you out there if only to escape the constant pestering of the scientists."

"There not leaving you alone," Carson said with a smile.

"No there not, there pestering me with questions all the time; they want to scan me, want DNA samples, want me to run for them the works," Evan answered with a sigh of irritation. "Its getting annoying. And now Hermiod is getting in on the act, he came to see me last night and asked would I mind giving a DNA sample."

"I can guess why the Asgard want it," Carson replied. "They are a dying race after all and Hermiod probably wants to send you're DNA off to the Asgard High Council so they can see if there is a solution to their problems in it. I'll have a word with him later. But whether you let them have you're DNA profile is up to you, Evan."

"I'll let the Asgard have it but I wish Pierce and the other scientists would leave me alone for five minutes. Surprisingly the only one who hasn't bugged me much is Rodney."

"I asked him not to that's why," Carson said. "Maybe you should have a word with Colonel Sheppard and Dr Weir later. Get them to call off the scientists."

"I will. We better go the service is about to start," Evan answered stepping aside so Carson could leave his own quarters. Carson gently eased past him.

"Lets get this over with," Carson said with a sigh before starting to walk in the direction of the closest lift/transporter station. Evan followed a few paces behind him; the door to Carson's quarters automatically closing and locking behind them. _This is not going to be easy for him,_ Evan Lorne thought looking the shorter man over from behind, _but he'll get through it. I hope._


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Stargate Operations**

**Atlantis, A Few Minutes Later**

Doctor Elizabeth Weir sighed to herself as she descended the stairs from the control room to the foyer area that housed the Atlantis Stargate. A podium had been set up directly in front of the Stargate, facing the crowd of expedition members that was gathering for the memorial service. Set up in lines leading up to the gate were the national flags of all the countries represented here in Atlantis, mixed in with flags with the crest of the Atlantis expedition on them.

She was not looking forward to this at all, memorial services were always hard, but this one was all the more difficult because it had been some of her people who had died. People whose lives she as expedition leader had ultimately been responsible for; and she couldn't escape the feeling of guilt that she had somehow failed them.

Without speaking she made her way to the podium before turning in place to look at her assembled expedition members, the Stargate at her back. Everyone was here now, with the senior members of the expedition at the front. They all looked smart, the military personnel led by Colonels Sheppard and Caldwell dressed in their formal dress blues, civilian personnel dressed in smart suits. Teyla and Ronan were at the front as well, Ronan dressed in the best clothing he owned, Teyla dressed in her full Athosian leader dress. Another familiar Athosian – Halling – stood to Teyla's right side, the two representing their people who'd all been saddened by the losses here in Atlantis.

Elizabeth took a few moments to study her people; they were composed though there was a very sad, subdued atmosphere around them all. It didn't escape her notice though that both Major Lorne and Rodney McKay were standing either side of Carson, Rodney with a supportive hand on his arm. _This cant be easy for him,_ she thought thinking of Carson and the superhuman abilities that she knew he possessed, _as he can feel all of our emotions on top of his own._

"Ladies and Gentlemen, friends and colleagues," she said at last beginning the service. "We are gathered here today to pay final respects to our honoured dead." Looking down at the podium she slowly began to read through the list of names and nationalities of the people who had died two days ago, their existence wiped out in an instant flash of light and fire. The waste of life was tragic and pointless but she knew better than to rage at the winds of fate. They never answered you and raging about events that could not be changed would serve no purpose.

"We all knew them as they were our friends and colleagues, skilled people whose contributions to the success of this expedition are undisputed," she continued after reaching the bottom of the list of names. "We will all miss them. Their insights will be greatly missed, but more so their companionship and friendship, for each of us here is family regardless of what country or planet we hail from. Though their bodies are gone they will live on in our hearts and memories forever more."

Looking over at Rodney, Elizabeth nodded indicating it was his turn to speak. She watched as Rodney let go of Carson's arm and made his way over to the podium. Elizabeth stood aside to let the Canadian scientist take centre stage, as the head of the science teams Rodney had asked to speak at the service.

"I will just say a few words," Rodney said at last, no trace of his normal arrogance in his voice, instead he was sombre and sad, like everyone else in the room. "Like many of us assembled here today, I knew those taken from us very well indeed, and worked closely with them. Outside of work I knew them as friends and acquaintances, and it's about the personal aspects of them all that I wish to speak."

* * *

**The Network Headquarters**

**That Same Time**

Silence reigned in the small interview room. Peter had finished explaining what they had been through with the US military to Laura Hamilton-Ward and now the beautiful but mysterious woman sat lost in thought. Watching her Peter noticed that she did not appear as surprised as Claude had been when he'd been told, he had refrained from using telepathy to gage her reactions during his recital, but her body language told him everything that he needed to know.

"You know who they are," he said. "What Colonel Mitchell and his people are involved in."

"Yes, Mr Petrelli I do," Laura answered. "Its called Stargate Command, it's a project involving an alien transportation device called the Stargate that was discovered decades ago on the Giza plateau. The United States Air Force has been sending teams through the gate in secret for the last ten years."

"What is the Stargate," Hiro asked.

"From what I understand it's a device that creates a wormhole through space-time to others of its kind all around this and other galaxies. A person can enter the gate on this planet and instantly emerge on a planet on the other side of the galaxy," Laura answered.

"Like Wormhole X-treme," Hiro said excitedly.

"Sounds like it," Peter agreed though he had no time for the campy sci-fi show. "Though I am curious Miss Hamilton-Ward how you know so much about this Stargate."

"Officially the American government informed the British government about its existence along with the French and Chinese governments three years ago. The Russians have known about it for about six or seven years and have actively cooperated with the American government to keep the gates existence secret."

"But in practice you've known about it all along," Claude said knowingly, though he was as blown away by the revelation of this alien device as Peter, Hiro and Ando were.

"But of course," Laura said with a smile. "As I said earlier those CIA, NSA and NID guys are not as good at keeping secrets as they like to think they are."

"So the Network is linked to the British Government," Peter asked suddenly concerned that himself and Hiro were suddenly going to find themselves and their powers being used in someone's political agenda.

"The Network was set up in secret by the government over twenty years ago, Peter," Claude replied.

"Our charter comes directly from Queen Elizabeth herself," Laura added. "Our purpose by royal command is to seek out and assist metahumans such as yourself Mr Petrelli to understand and control your powers. Aside from the Queen and the Prime Minister and select people in the intelligence and security services no one knows we exist. And we prefer it that way as it lets us carry on with our work without political interference."

"And you ask nothing in return," Ando asked sceptically.

"Sometimes we will offer opportunities and careers that can see abilities used to their best potential," Laura replied. "But most times we just offer support and guidance. Our scientists share the feeling that the late Dr Chandra Suresh had that metahumans represent the next phase of our evolution as a species, all we really want is to help and understand what is happening to us as a race."

"That's all," Peter asked.

"That's all. Now I believe there maybe a way we can help you with the US military. Now that you have been aboard one of their starships they are going to pursue you so you tell no one about it," Laura said. "The only way they will leave you alone is if you sign confidentiality agreements with either themselves or the body formed by the five governments now in the know about the gate to oversee the actions of Stargate Command."

"They kidnapped us why should we cooperate with them," Ando asked.

"There isn't much choice Mr Masahashi," Laura told him bluntly. "If you don't cooperate with them then they will turn this planet upside down and inside out looking for you, and they will either kill you or imprison you to silence you when they find you. I can speak with my superiors and see if we can arrange a means of helping you with them. In that regard we do have an advantage."

"What's that," Peter asked.

"My father," Claude answered. "He's the ambassador to America."

"He is also British representative on the Stargates International Oversight Authority," Laura said surprising the four men in the room. "Lord Raines knows of our existence I am sure we can arrange something with him."

"Lord Raines," Peter repeated then looked at Claude in surprise. "You're a lord?"

"My father is," Claude admitted.

"But that means you're a member of the British upper class," Peter said. "Why then did you go to America and end up falling in with The Company?"

"It's along story, Peter," Claude replied.

"So you went to see your father after we were ambushed on the roof of the Deveraux building," Peter asked.

"Yes," Claude answered his posture indicating that he didn't want to talk anymore about the complex relationship he had with his father. Peter noticed the look on the real-life invisible mans face and wisely didn't ask any of the questions that were on the tip of his tongue.

"Back to the issue at hand," Laura said. "Its up to the three of you what we do now, I can certainly and try to arrange something to help you with the US military."

Peter glanced at Hiro and Ando and saw his own uncertainty about what to do now mirrored in their faces. "Can we talk about it among ourselves for awhile," he asked.

"Certainly," Laura replied. "I'll leave you in here for awhile so you can talk about it among yourselves, don't worry no one is going to listen in on your conversation. If you don't believe me Mr Petrelli then you can read my mind if you want to."

"That wont be necessary," Peter answered. "Plus I don't like using that particular ability much, I don't like the headaches that come with it, how Matt Parkman puts up with them I really don't know."

"You both need to learn how to create telepathic shields around your minds," Laura replied. "If you accept our help with regards to your abilities we will certainly teach you how to do that, and much more. But that is a discussion for later; would the three of you like some refreshments while you discuss your options?"

"Yes," Ando said, Hiro nodded in agreement.

"Then I will have some water brought in for you," Laura said standing up. "Come on, Claude. Let us leave these three gentlemen to their thoughts."

Claude nodded in agreement and stood away from the door he had been leaning against, before leaving the room. Laura followed him, but gave Peter, Hiro and Ando a warm smile before closing the door behind her.

Standing out in the corridor, Laura turned to look at Claude. "What do you think they are going to do," she asked.

"I'm not sure," Claude replied. "Peter desperately needs help to control his ability; the mental file card trick I taught him is obviously not enough if he's still having difficulties with them. If he looses his tenuous control over his abilities…"

"…they will rampage out of control which would not be a good thing for anyone," Laura finished before sighing. "While we wait for them to make up their minds what are you going to do?"

"I'm feeling a bit hungry so I was going to go down to the canteen for something to eat," Claude said, then smiled. "Care to join me?"

"Not right now, I have a few things to do," Laura replied. "Besides you know what my husbands like, if he sees me with you he'll get awful jealous."

"Good point and I don't want trouble with Jason, especially as he can find me even if I went invisible," Claude answered. "Okay Laura, I'll go have some food then we can find out what Peter and co wants to do."

"Alright, you know where my office is, come and find me when your done." Claude nodded in agreement before walking away. Laura watched him leave for a few moments, then turned away and headed off on her own, going to her own office to arrange for refreshments to be brought to Peter Petrelli, Hiro Nakamura and Ando Masahashi. _I hope they let us help them,_ she thought, _they desperately need it, especially with Stargate Command on their tails._

* * *

**Baal's Secret Base**

**Ten Minutes Later**

Issac Mendez groaned softly as consciousness returned to his body, slowly he opened his eyes to find himself lying in a comfortable bed looking up at a white ceiling. _Where am I,_ he wondered, _this isn't my studio._

Slowly he sat up and felt cloth move against his skin, glancing down he saw that he was clothed in delicately woven white-silk robes. It somehow felt right to be wearing them, like he belonged in them. The sound of a door opening made him look up in time to see a man in darker more ornate robes come in. The sight of him sent a wave of pure bliss running through his mind, bringing with it a sense of peace and fulfilment unlike any that he had ever known.

"**Good your awake," **Baal said and smiled inwardly when he saw Issac relax at the sound of his voice, the nishta organism working on him perfectly. **"How are you feeling?"**

"I feel fine my lord," Issac answered feeling a sudden strange urge to get off the bed and bow down before the man in front of him, a man he somehow knew to be a living god.

"**Excellent. Please get up and come with me."**

"As my lord commands," Issac replied getting up out of the bed and bowing to his master. At the back of his mind a tiny voice screamed at him that he shouldn't be doing this, that this was wrong and not who he was. But he ignored it, pushing it away, burying it under the feeling of pure contentment.

Baal smiled at how willing the Human was to cooperate now, then turned and led the way out of the room. Issac followed closely behind him, keeping his eyes on his masters back and continuing to ignore the irritating voice at the back of his thoughts. No matter how he tried to bury it, it kept coming back to the surface. _What's this voice in my head,_ he wondered, _why wont it leave me alone._

Baal led the way through the old nuclear sheltered he'd converted for his own use, and entered his throne room. Calmly he made his way to his throne and sat down, before looking at Issac again. Inwardly he smiled again when Issac immediately went to his knees in front of him.

"How may I please you my lord," Issac asked.

"**Tell me about your ability to see the future, Mr Mendez," **Baal ordered. **"I am most intrigued by it, how does it work?"**

"As my lord commands," Issac answered. _No don't tell him,_ the voice at the back of his mind screamed, but he ignored it and opened his mouth to explain. "I first discovered that I could paint future events three months ago…"

* * *

**Atlantis**

**A Few Minutes Later**

Doctor Carson Beckett sighed in relief as the memorial service finally ended and the crowd of gathered expedition members dispersed to return to their quarters. There would be no work done here in Atlantis today out of respect for the dead, though tomorrow work on unravelling the secrets of the Ancients would begin anew.

The memorial service had been as hard for him to bear as he had feared. The emotions of everyone around him had overwhelmed his mental shields, he'd been unable to stop them rampaging through his mind. It had taken all of his strength and every bit of determination that he had not to break into tears from the emotional overload. For his troubles he now had the mother of all headaches pounding away inside his skull, his synapses complaining about the intense battering they'd taken, and making him feel like he had the whole Edingborough Royal Military Tattoo pounding away inside his skull. He knew from past experience that it would take hours to fade away. And even then he would have to be on his own for awhile.

Leaving Stargate operations Carson walked down one of the corridors leading away before leaning against the most convenient out of the way wall and closed his eyes. The pain in his head was intense, so bad that he wanted to scream, or be sick or both. Even here he could still sense the emotions of the rest of the expedition team, though it was more muted and manageable here. Not that that helped much with his mental shields so battered and weak now.

"Carson," he heard Rodney's voice from beside him accompanied by a sense of real concern. Slowly he opened his eyes and found Rodney and Evan Lorne standing next to him, expressions of concern on their faces. "Are you okay," Rodney asked.

"No," Carson answered closing his eyes again as he sensed his friends increasing concern, though it was obvious Rodney was trying not to project his emotions.

"Headache," Lorne asked. Carson nodded.

"It was so hard in there," Carson said softly. "Too many emotions, too many people. All feeling the same at once, I couldn't keep it out."

"Do you need some paracetamol or something, Carson?" Rodney asked.

Carson shook his head and winced as it made the pain that little bit worse. "Wouldn't do any good," he said. "Pain killers have only limited effects on telepathic headaches. I have to bear it till it passes."

"Maybe you should go out to one of the piers like you said to me earlier," Lorne suggested. "Its quite out there and you can just let yourself go. Give your shields time to recover."

"Probably be best," Carson agreed. "I can relax and let it pass then."

"I'll go talk to, Elizabeth," Rodney said. "I'll let her know you wont be available for the rest of the day."

"Thanks, Rodney."

"What are friends for," Rodney replied and walked urgently away to find Elizabeth Weir. Carson watched him leave and couldn't help but sigh in relief when Rodney was out of his perceptive range.

"Even feeling Rodney's emotions was to much for you then wasn't it," Evan Lorne said softly to his fellow metahuman.

"Yes, damn I hate it when this happens," Carson replied feeling comfortable talking to Evan and glad that he was the one person in the whole of Atlantis whose emotions he couldn't sense. The unique differences in Evans neural patterns brought about by his own ability made him a void as far as his empathic telepathy was concerned.

"Come on," Evan said. "The nearest transporter is round the corner, I'll take you out to the farthest pier from the inhabited areas of the city."

"Thanks."

"As Rodney pointed out, what are friends for," Evan asked then led the way with Carson following a few steps behind him.

In moments they were both in the lift/transporter compartment and Evan clicked the glowing dot for the closest transporter to the cities southern pier. A flash of light immediately enveloped them and in an instant they were in an identical closet sized compartment on the opposite side of the vast Ancient cityship. Carson relaxed as he constant background 'noise' of other peoples feelings vanished with the flash of the transporter. The doors opened and he gratefully stepped out into the deserted corridors of this section.

Quietly Evan came up behind him and gently lifted the other metahuman into his arms drawing a cry of surprise for Carson. "What are you doing, Evan," Carson asked.

"Getting you out to the pier as quickly as possible," Evan replied before starting to run, allowing himself to slip into super speed as he did so, making the world around seem to slow down as he experienced his own personal bullet time. In moments from his perspective they were out at the edge of the city, under the bright, warm light of Lantea's star.

He stopped running and gently set Carson down; he wouldn't have been able to carry the Scotsman for much longer at any rate. Though he wasn't particularly tall Carson was a very solidly built guy with most of his bodyweight being muscle.

"Here you go, Carson," he said. "I can't say I have to go have a word with Colonel Sheppard about the scientists pestering me, and then I have to go see Hermiod. Will you be alright out here on your own?"

"I'll be fine," Carson said his heart racing a little from the adrenaline of the high-speed run out here. Experiencing bullet time with Evan as the other metahuman ran had been extraordinary and briefly distracted him from his headache. "Good luck with Colonel Sheppard and Hermiod."

"Thanks," Evan answered with a smile, Carson gave a pained one in return. Then Evan turned away and raced back in the direction he'd come from, disappearing from Carson's perspective in a blur of motion and optical distortion. He was alone with only the soft sound of the ocean washing against the pier for company.

Smiling he lay down on the cool metal surface of the city. Slowly, cautiously he lowered his battered mental shields and let the total lack of emotional telepathic noise around wash into his mind, and immediately felt it begin to banish the pain. Slowly his blue eyes drifted closed and he descended into a deep, peaceful, recuperative sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Atlantis**

**Ten Minutes Later**

Doctor Elizabeth Weir settled down in her office chair with a soft sigh of relief, though she wouldn't do any work today just being able to sit here and enjoy the peace and quiet was heaven. Especially as she knew Atlantis would be back to its normal pandemonium self again from tomorrow morning. _Thank goodness the memorial service went off without a hitch,_ she thought, _it was bad enough going through it, I don't know how we would have managed if something had gone wrong._

One thing did have her concerned though, and that was Carson. Rodney had filled her in on what was wrong with him, that he had some sort of headache caused by his empathic telepathy picking up so many strong emotions in such close proximity. She was worried for the kind hearted Scottish doctor who even in the most dire circumstances always had a caring smile and was always willing to listen if you wished to talk to him. _I hope he'll be alright,_ she thought inwardly flinching as she imagined how disabling a telepathic headache could be, Rodney had said that Carson had described them to him a few days ago as being like 'a migraine mixed with the worst aspects of a hangover'.

The very thought of feeling that kind of pain was enough to make her cringe. She knew she wouldn't be able to withstand such a thing, if it were to hit her. _Though it kind of makes sense that a power like Carson's would have a side effect from prolonged use, and he did say the other day that he can't block out emotion when he's right next to the source,_ she thought. _I wonder do all superpowers have side effects._ It made her think of Major Lorne – the only other active metahuman in Atlantis, if all superpowers had negative side effects from prolonged use then what side effects would his super speed have on him.

A knock on the sheet crystal window next to the door caught her attention and she looked over. To see Major Lorne – still in dress uniform – standing there waiting for admittance. _Talk of the devil,_ she thought as she waved for him to come inside her office.

"Doctor Weir," Lorne asked. "May I have a word with you?"

"Of course, major," Elizabeth answered. "Take a seat. How is Carson? Rodney told me you were going to take him out to the south pier."

"He's sleeping at the moment," Lorne replied. "It's the only thing he can do when he gets a telepathic headache like the one he's got right now. After a couple hours out on the pier sleeping, with no one else around so he can keep his shields down, he'll be fine."

Elizabeth sighed slightly in relief. "That's good to hear," she said. "I was worried about him."

"So was I, though I've seen him with telepathic headaches before, thankfully he doesn't get them all that often, emotions have to really be strong, really raw, to penetrate his shields enough to cause one."

"And there was a hell of a lot of strong emotion out there today," Elizabeth agreed. "I'm glad he'll be alright. Now then major, what can I do for you?"

Lorne sighed. "I need your help ma'am," he said. "For the last few days ever since I revealed what I can do, I've been having a bit of a problem with a number of the scientific staff."

"There not leaving you alone?" Elizabeth asked already knowing what the answer would be, she knew every scientist in the city from Rodney on down would be intrigued as hell by what Evan Lorne could do. Especially as he hadn't been artificially evolved to a higher level as was the case with someone like an Ori Prior.

Lorne shook his head. "No ma'am," he confirmed. "There constantly pestering me with questions and some of them want me to get on a treadmill and run for them, while I've got sensors attached to me. I can understand why there curious, after all its not everyday you find out that seemingly ordinary people can have superpowers. But at the same time its getting somewhat… annoying. And its starting to make me feel a bit like a Human lab rat."

"I can imagine," Elizabeth replied, inwardly wincing at the Human lab rat comment. "Have you talked to John or Rodney about this?"

"I can't Colonel Sheppard anywhere," Lorne admitted. "And to tell you the truth ma'am, I'm not sure Colonel Sheppard would be able to do a lot as he has no authority to really give orders to the scientific staff."

"Point," Elizabeth conceded knowing full well that while John Sheppard could ask the civilian members of the expedition to do something he couldn't really give them an order, unless she was away from Atlantis at the time.

"I have spoken with Rodney; he's tried to get them to back off and has refrained from asking any questions of me himself. But he's not been having much luck I'm afraid."

"I see. Alright major, I'll bring this matter up with Rodney myself. No one in Atlantis should be constantly harassed like you are currently experiencing. Since Rodney's request to the other scientists is not making any headway then I will make it a direct order."

"Thank you, ma'am," Lorne replied inwardly relaxing, knowing that none of the scientific staff would disobey a direct order from Elizabeth Weir.

"Its no problem," Elizabeth assured him. "Is there anything else?"

Lorne paused for a moment. "There is one other related thing, ma'am," he said. "Hermiod has asked to scan me to get some information on my DNA. He wants to transmit that information back to the Asgard homeworld."

"Why does he want that?"

"I talked about it with Carson and we figured that he wants it to see if will help with the genetic problems that are slowly destroying the Asgard."

"Very possible," Elizabeth agreed. "So what are you going to do, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I'll be going to see, Hermiod. I'm going to let him do the scan of me that he wants to do. If my DNA goes someway towards saving the Asgard, perhaps the greatest ally that our world has, from extinction then it will be well worth it."

Elizabeth smiled. "I'm sure the Asgard will appreciate you helping them like this," she said. "I might let them have a sample of my DNA as well."

Lorne frowned and looked at Elizabeth in confusion for a moment, wondering why her DNA would be of interest to the Asgard. Then he remembered what Carson had told him a few days ago the same day he'd saved Dr Weir from certain death. That there were others of their kind here in Atlantis, albeit most without developed powers, yet, and his eyes widened in realisation.

"You're a metahuman like me and Carson," he said.

"Yes," Elizabeth confirmed. "Though I don't have any powers, not at the moment anyway, and I doubt I'll ever develop any."

"Don't be so sure," Lorne answered with a smile. "Powers can activate without warning and for no apparent reason."

"That's what's Carson said."

"Well he's right and Carson knows quite a bit about metahuman genetics. Plus no one really knows what causes our powers to become active, just because you have no powers now doesn't mean you wont get them at some point."

"I know. And I have to admit there is this little part of me that relishes the idea," Elizabeth replied. Lorne laughed softly at that comment, though he understood it as deep inside him was a giddy little boy who loved the fact that he had a superhuman ability. Elizabeth smiled back then sighed. "We'll see what will happen with me and the others here in Atlantis. But in the meantime I should get on with my paperwork."

Accepting the dismissal for what it was Evan Lorne stood up. "I'll leave you to it then, ma'am," he said. "Thank you for seeing me."

"You're welcome," Elizabeth replied. "And major don't worry I will talk to Rodney about getting the scientists off your back."

"Thank you," Lorne answered before quietly leaving the room. Elizabeth watched him go before tapping the communicator on her ear.

"Rodney," she called out. For a moment there was no reply, and then the communicator came to life.

"Yes, Elizabeth," Rodney responded.

"Can you come to my office please? There is something that we need to discuss."

"I'll be right there," Rodney answered and signed off. Elizabeth sighed and leaned back in her chair and began working out just how she was going to phrase the order that she would have to give to Rodney to relay to the rest of the science staff. The order to leave Major Evan Lorne alone, it would not be easy to get the scientists to back off, though she was confident that with her support behind him Rodney would be able to do it.

* * *

After leaving Dr Weirs office Evan Lorne felt a bit like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He knew that the head of the expedition meant what she said and that she would find away to get the scientists off his back. _I just better stay away from the labs for a bit if I can,_ he thought, _as Rodney will probably really let rip at the science staff. Better to stay away from there, for now._

Walking down the steps between the control room and the main part of Stargate Operations he considered where he was going to find Hermiod to allow the sometimes condescending Asgard engineer to take a DNA sample. He knew that the _Daedalus_ was scheduled to begin a return journey to Earth midday tomorrow, and take with them some scientists and military personnel whose tours here in Atlantis were over. With departure only a day away Hermiod could either be in the chambers he had been assigned here in Atlantis or he could be on the _Daedalus_ assisting Dr Novak in getting the ship ready for the long hyperspace flight back to Earth.

_I'll go get out of dress uniform first. Then I'll go find Hermiod,_ he thought leaving Stargate Operations behind and making a beeline for the stairwell that ran down the core of the main tower. His quarters like most of the senior staff were two levels below the control room and he preferred taking the stairs to using one of the internal transporters/lifts to get there. Awkwardly fingering the collar of his stiff dress uniform he smiled, soon he would be out of this thing and into something a bit more comfortable as he was supposed to be off duty for the rest of the day. _Maybe after I've seen Hermiod I'll dig my arts stuff out of storage and paint,_ he thought smiling, it would be a nice and pleasant way to end what had been an emotionally tiring day.

* * *

**The Network Headquarters**

**London, England**

**That Same Time**

Laura Hamilton-Ward cautiously opened the door to the room where she had left Peter Petrelli, Hiro Nakamura and Ando Masahashi in deep discussion. She wanted to check on them before she went off to join Claude in the canteen for something to eat, and if they were hungry she would ask them if they wanted to come.

Poking her head into the room she found the three men deep in discussion, snaps of their dialogue indicating they were still considering what to do but were leaning towards accepting the offered help.

"Excuse me," she said bringing the attention of all three men instantly upon her. "Am I disturbing you?"

Peter paused in what he was about to say to Hiro and Ando before turning in place to look at the still somewhat mysterious woman. He didn't know quite what to make of The Network, though he was tempted to accept their offer of help. "You are but it doesn't matter," he replied. "We're still discussing our options if that's what you're here about."

"No its not but I am glad to here your giving my proposal serious thought. I just came by to see how the three of you were doing," Laura explained to them. "And to ask if you want anything to eat, the canteen is open if anyone is hungry."

Peter, Hiro and Ando exchanged an identical look of hunger, they hadn't eaten in hours and all of them were hungry. "Yeah we could do with something to eat," Peter said at last.

Laura smiled. "Okay then come with me," she said. "We'll leave talk about what your going to do until after we're done, alright?"

"Alright," Peter replied.

"You should find dinner interesting, as there are a number of other metahumans here today, and everyone gathers in the canteen at this time of day."

Peter frowned slightly, while it would be nice to talk to others like him and Hiro here and sound them out about the Network he was concerned. He was having enough difficulty controlling his existing powers, Claude's mental file card trick only going so far, he didn't really need to absorb any more abilities. Something must have shown on his face for Laura looked at him in sympathy.

"Don't worry, Mr Petrelli," Laura assured him. "You won't absorb any abilities while you're in the canteen."

"But I can't stop myself absorbing powers," Peter objected.

"I know because I won't let you," Laura told him with a smile. "Two of the permanent admin staff we passed on the way in here have powers, yet you didn't immediately manifest them. The reason is I stopped you."

"You have power," Hiro asked.

"Of course," Laura replied smiling sweetly. "Mine is I can create a sort of null power field, preventing powers from working."

"Like the Haitian guy who works for The Company?" Peter said.

"Similar, though I cannot manipulate memory the way the Haitian does. Plus the effect of my ability is one I can consciously direct, he cannot, almost any metahuman that gets within a few metres of him finds their power neutralised."

"So if we wanted to leave you wouldn't make us stay?" Peter asked.

"No. You three are not prisoners. You are perfectly free to leave here anytime that you want to, though I would ask you this; where would you go? You three are in a very awkward, very unenviable position." Peter, Hiro and Ando all winced slightly at the reminder that the United States government would be looking hard for them now that they knew about the _Odyssey_.

"But we are getting off track here," Laura continued. "Are you three going to come with me to the canteen?"

"Oh why not," Peter said, his empty stomach prompting him to trust that Laura would not allow him to absorb anymore abilities. Slowly he stood up and looked over at Hiro and Ando. The two Japanese men sat still for a few moments before hunger compelled them to stand up as well.

"Good this way please," Laura told them before ducking back out of the room. Slowly, nervously – still very unsure about this place and Laura Hamilton-Ward – Hiro, Ando and Peter followed her out of the room. Once out in the corridor Laura gave them a reassuring smile, before leading them out of the interview area and back towards the main room and the steps that led deeper down into the virtual labyrinth of the high tech headquarters of The Network.

* * *

**Ba'al's Secret Base**

**A Few Minutes Later**

Ba'al leaned back on his throne, a thoughtful look on his face as he studied the kneeling form of Issac Mendez. Under the influence of the nishta organism infecting every single cell in his body the Human had told him everything about his precognitive ability. An ability that apparently worked through paintings, though Ba'al had already suspected that would be the case. Though it was mildly disappointing that Issac had to paint to see the future, and that he had no control over what he would paint while in a precognitive trance, it was still a very interesting power.

Though what was even more interesting from his point of view was what Issac had said about there being other Humans with powers. Powers that in many cases would be very useful to Ba'al, he was especially intrigued by what Issac had said about two Humans the ones called Peter Petrelli and Gabriel Grey or Sylar as he now called himself. They both sounded to be extremely powerful and would make the perfect advanced hosts.

"**How do you know so much about Mr Petrelli and this Sylar," **he asked at last.

"I have spoken to Peter Petrelli on a number of occasions my lord," Issac answered. "And I was informed about Sylar by The Company. If I ever painted him I was to contact them immediately."

Ba'al frowned. **"What is The Company?"** he asked.

"The Company was created by an individual unknown to me a number of years ago my lord," Issac told his master. "They exist to locate, tag and train people such as myself. On occasion they have been tasked to eliminate someone whose abilities are too dangerous to themselves, to Company interests, or to the world. I was helped by The Company with a problem I had with drugs, they helped me refine my talent and since then I have worked for them."

"**Excellent,"** Ba'al said smiling evilly as an idea occurred to him, an idea that if it worked would give him the best resources imaginable, resources that would go along way towards realising his plans for the Tau'ri. **"You have been most informative, Mr Mendez. I will possibly have further use for your services. In the meantime I would like for you to demonstrate your ability to paint the future to me. I will have the appropriate art materials brought here."**

Issac bowed his head. "As my lord commands," he said reverently.

* * *

**Atlantis**

**That Same Time**

Major Evan Lorne paused outside the quarters that had been assigned to Hermiod, butterflies of nerves fluttering around in his stomach. He hadn't really dealt with Hermiod much over the last year and a half since his assignment to Atlantis after the Wraith laid siege to the city. But the few meetings he had had with the Asgard had not always been pleasant, Hermiod was unusually cocky for one of his normally unfailingly polite race, and could be very condescending to non-Asgard. Though to be fair he'd heard from Dr Novak that Hermiod had mellowed a bit in recent months.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he got the butterflies under control. Before he could change his mind about doing this he reached out and ran a hand down the door control, setting off a chime inside. For a moment nothing happened, and then the door opened in a clear invitation to come inside. Evan carefully stepped inside and suddenly it felt like he wasn't in Atlantis anymore. The architecture of the room was completely different to the alien yet at the same time comfortingly Human style of the rest of the city, instead it had been remodelled to Asgard style. The techno Norse yet distinctively alien architecture was slightly unsettling to his already nervous mind, but at the same time comfortable and beautiful to look at.

"Ah Major Lorne welcome," Hermiod said standing up from one of the throne-like Asgard chairs. Evan hadn't even seen him, which was no surprise given the fact that like all Asgard Hermiod was not much bigger than a ten-year-old Human. "I am pleased that you were able to come. The information I gather here today could be vital to the very survival of my species."

"Anything I can do to help Hermiod," Lorne replied. "Hey if my DNA helps to save your entire race, well no harm no foul just let me know if you need me again."

"Indeed," Hermiod agreed. "But just so you understand I will only do a basic physiological and genetic scan of your body Major Lorne. I like the equipment here to get more in depth readings."

Lorne nodded. "So how do we do this?"

Hermiod gestured to a large red circle that stood on a slightly raised dais, with an Asgard computer set up facing it. "Please step onto the circle, Major Lorne," he instructed. "I assure you the scan will not harm you in any way."

Evan nodded and did as Hermiod instructed. The moment he stopped dead centre in the middle of the circle a glowing column of energy came into existence around him. For a moment all he could hear was the soft humming of the energy field, and then his sharp ears faintly picked up the sound of Hermiod manipulating the controls on the Asgard console. A circle of translucent blue light appeared over his head and slowly swept up and down his body several times. Then it shut off and the energy field around him vanished as if it had never been present at all.

"Scan is complete," Hermiod said manipulating his controls so he could forward his results to his people via a subspace burst transmission that he knew from experience that the Wraith would not detect. "Thank you, Major Lorne," Hermiod said inclining his head so he could look up into the Humans eyes. He was long used to doing it now, given that even a short adult Human was far taller than any Asgard had been in thirty thousand years.

"You're welcome," Evan replied stepping down off the disc. "Hopefully something good comes of it."

"I believe it will," Hermiod answered studying the super powered Human in front of him with his large, pure black eyes. Though he was more of an engineer than a scientist he couldn't help but be intrigued by the Humans ability to move at such impossible speeds when his DNA showed no sign of external manipulation by a more advanced race like his own or the Ori. Hopefully in unravelling the mystery of Lorne's power Asgard scientists would find the solution to the genetic degeneration that was destroying them.

"Now I must ask that you excuse me, Major Lorne," Hermiod continued. "I must go aboard the _Daedalus_ and run pre-flight diagnostics on the hyperdrive ready for tomorrow."

"Fair enough," Evan replied. Hermiod nodded gently and manipulated the control stone on his console. A moment later he vanished in the white flash and almost musical tone of an Asgard transporter beam. Evan stared at the point where the little grey alien had been standing for a few moments before leaving the quarters and hearing the door automatically lock behind him. _I wonder if my DNA will be of any use to the Asgard,_ he thought as he started walking down the hallways of Atlantis, _I suppose only time will tell._


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Nathan Petrelli Campaign Office**

**New York, Two Hours Later**

Congressional candidate Nathan Petrelli smiled as he read over the latest opinion poll results; he had a respectable lead in the polls now though he knew not to become complacent. There were still weeks to go till polling day and defeat was still a very real possibility, albeit not one he liked to entertain even to himself. He'd already gotten complacent once during his campaign and gotten a nasty wake up call when his standing in the polls had slumped.

Putting down the piece of paper with the latest poll results on he leaned back in his chair and allowed himself to feel a glimmer of satisfaction at his high standing. _With a little bit of luck I'll win this election,_ he thought before remembering what Hiro had told him that he did win the election. Though as with all things with superpowers Nathan took what the excitable Japanese man said with a dose of salt. _Hiro's nice enough,_ he thought, _if only he would stop referring to me as 'flying man' every time we meet._ _Last thing I need is for anyone else to figure out I can fly._

In the privacy of his office he allowed himself a small smile at the thought of flying, even though it was the flying that had landed his beloved wife in a wheelchair. Something the preyed on him even now seven months after it had happened, but beneath the guilt he had to admit to their being a part of him that liked his power. And he did have to admit it had saved his neck from that horn rimmed glasses guy and the weird Haitian with him when they'd tried to abduct him in Las Vegas; proving to him at least the point that he constantly tried to get over to Peter that they couldn't well go around showing their powers because someone would try and take them away.

At the thought of his younger brother Nathan sighed and glanced at a photo on his desk. A photo of a happier time before the accident that had crippled Heidi, it was of him and Peter smiling happily. _Where are you, Peter,_ he thought, having not seen Peter in weeks, ever since Peter had appeared out of thin air in this very office; but only for a few minutes before doing his invisible man trick and vanishing again. Since then he'd heard nothing from Peter, and neither had Simone. He'd even gone down to see Issac this morning only to find the precognitive painters studio all boarded up with no sign of him anywhere.

A knock at the door drew him out of his thoughts and he looked up. "Come in," he called out. The door opened with a faint squeak and Nathan made a mental note to get the hinges oiled, and his secretary poked her head in.

"Nathan there are two men here to see you," she said. "I told them to make an appointment but they insisted on seeing you immediately."

Nathan frowned slightly; he wasn't expecting anyone this afternoon. Unless it was the FBI pulling another of their little surprise visits.

"Did they say what they want, Janet?" he asked.

"All they would say is it's a matter of national security and they must speak to you immediately," Janet replied her words sending a chill down Nathan's spine. _National security,_ he thought, _oh God please don't tell me the government knows about superpowers. I hate to think what they would do with me._

None of his alarm showed on his face however. "Send them in, Janet," he said. "And do me a favour and call my wife, tell her I might be home late."

"Okay, Nathan," Janet replied before disappearing out of the room again.

A moment later the door opened and two men came into the living room. One was an air force officer in his dress blues, the other was a weasel-like man with thinning hair wearing one of the standard issue black federal government suits. Keeping his facial features calm Nathan stood up to greet them.

"Welcome gentlemen," he said in his best politician's voice. "I'm Nathan Petrelli; your arrival has come as something of a surprise. Normally I would insist you make an appointment but Janet did say it was urgent."

"My Petrelli, I'm Colonel Paul Davis with the United States Air force, this is Mr Woolsey with the Civilian oversight Committee. We thank you for seeing us at such short notice I'm sure you're busy with the run up to the election." Colonel Davis replied, during the journey here from Washington he and Woolsey had sorted out who would speak first based on the bio they'd been able to get of Nathan Petrelli. Having once been a soldier before becoming a lawyer and public prosecutor they'd decided he would speak to the congressional candidate.

"You're welcome. Please gentlemen sit down, as you said I am a busy man but I doubt that you would be here unless it was important in some way." Nathan told them settling back down in his chair, and watching with Petrelli calmness as his unexpected guests sat down themselves. "Before we begin would you like a drink?"

"No thank you," Davis told him, echoed a moment later by the mysterious Mr Woolsey.

"Very well then gentlemen. Please tell me why you have insisted on seeing me at such short notice."

"It concerns a matter of national security," Woolsey answered speaking for the first time. "And before we continue I must ask you for your word that nothing we say here will be repeated to anyone outside this room. This information comes under the Official Secrets act that you signed whilst serving in the military."

"National security," Nathan repeated resisting the impulse to frown wondering why an air force colonel and a weasily man who was obviously a federal agent of some sort and not a civilian wanted with him that could be related to US national security. "You have my word that I wont tell anyone about this meeting. So what is this about?"

"It concerns your brother, Peter and two friends of his. A Hiro Nakamura and Ando Masahashi," Davis answered and inwardly Nathan groaned. _Now what have they gone and done,_ he thought, _and when did Peter meet up with Hiro. Given the view on the differing powers they both have, the two of them joining forces cannot be a good thing._

"I see. What have they done?"

"I'm afraid that's classified," Davis replied. "All I can tell you is that it is imperative that we speak with them as soon as possible." _Oh God they know,_ Nathan thought, _they know that Peter and Hiro have powers._

"That may not be possible," Nathan answered. "Hiro and Ando as I am sure you are aware have no fixed address, and I have no knowledge of where they are currently staying." His visitors scowled slightly at his reply, obviously disappointed but at the same time not particularly surprised. _As their intelligence people have no doubt told them Hiro and Ando have no fixed address in this country,_ he thought and braced himself for the next question.

"And what of your brother, Mr Petrelli," Woolsey asked. "Do you have any idea where we could find him?"

Nathan sighed, and allowed some of his own frustration with his younger sibling to show on his face. "I'm afraid not," he answered truthfully. "Peter hasn't been at home or even in contact over the least few weeks, no one has any idea where he is or what he's going. It's worrying us to death I tell you, especially given that Peter isn't well."

"I am sorry to hear that, what is wrong with him," Davis asked politely while inwardly frowning. Peter Petrelli appeared to be fine on the _Odyssey's _security tapes, unless there was something more going on.

"Depression," Nathan answered. "He tried to commit suicide two months ago, Peter's a very caring individual, he took the death of the patient he was caring for quite badly. I arranged for his treatment, only to be told he never arrived at the clinic he was supposed to attend."

"There is no record of any search for your brother, Mr Petrelli," Woolsey pointed out, hoping to trap Nathan in a lie he was sure the politician was telling them. But he couldn't be sure, the man's poker face was perfect just like the disgraced Senator then Vice President Kinsey's had been.

"That's because I kept it quiet, Mr Woolsey," Nathan told him. "As I am sure you are aware politics is a very cutthroat game, especially this close to an election, if I made the investigation formal then my political opponents would have a field day. So I've kept it quiet, using my family contacts to search for Peter. Although if you happen to find him I would be very grateful if you would tell me, we are really worried about him."

"There should be no difficulty there," Davis answered.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, gentlemen?" Nathan asked. Davis and Woolsey exchanged a glance, both of them sensing that there was far more going on here, and that Nathan Petrelli knew what it was, than met the eye. But without more information they could not risk calling him on it – yet.

"No, thank you, Mr Petrelli," Davis answered standing up. "We're sorry to have bothered you; if you do get in touch with your brother will you please let us know?" As he spoke he took a card out of his pocket and offered it to Nathan.

"I will," Nathan replied accepting the card. "I'm sorry I have not been able to help you more gentlemen."

"You have helped, Mr Petrelli," Woolsey answered. "Thank you for your time."

With that Woolsey and Davis quietly left the office leaving Nathan once more alone. Nathan sighed and slumped in relief as soon as the door closed, glad that he had gotten through that without giving anything away. _Damn it what have you done, Peter,_ he thought, _what have you gone and gotten yourself into now little brother._

* * *

**Ba'al's Secret Base**

**That Same Time**

Ba'al watched with great interest as Issac Mendez painted the future, the Humans eyes had gone completely white and it was clear to him that Issac was in some sort of trance state as he worked. It was fascinating to watch him work; painting some event that had yet to happen.

After a few moments Issac finished what he was doing and stood stock still for a moment, then the whiteness faded from his eyes and the Human staggered back. But only for a moment, before steadying himself and turning in place to look at Ba'al. Issac bowed slightly before him.

"I have done as you requested, my lord," he said his eyes aimed at the floor.

"**Excellent,"** Ba'al replied moving forward to examine the piece of artwork.

The picture was a split image, showing two identical starships. Starships that he was unfortunately familiar with, familiar with and feared; for their builders had long been a bane of the Goa'uld. Even at the height of their glory the System Lords had dared not oppose them.

They were Asgard O'Neill-class battlecruisers.

The cruisers were in orbit of a planet in each part of the picture. One of the planets was clearly Earth; he could see the North American continent in the background. The other cruiser was just over a planet with a very large ocean, that if he had to guess he would say to be Lantea in the Pegasus Galaxy. As he looked at that image Ba'al noticed that in a parallel orbit to the cruiser was another smaller Asgard ship, though he didn't recognise the configuration. _So the Asgard are going to come to Earth again and go to Atlantis at some point in the future,_ Ba'al thought, _but when and what do they want._

Whatever it was he knew it could not be good news for him. Asgard interference was never good news for the Goa'uld, though they had been uncharacteristically quiet in intergalactic affairs over the last few years. Though they had obviously dealt extensively with the Tau'ri over the last few years, even providing them with technologies for their ships.

"**Do you know when these ships will arrive,"** he asked Issac.

"No, my lord," Issac answered with mixed feelings. On one hand a large part of him was sorry that he couldn't give his god the answers he desired, but on the other the tiny little voice at the back of his mind was overjoyed that by that very same fact.

Ba'al whirled in place to look at Issac. **"Why not?"** he demanded.

"The future reveals itself only reluctantly, my lord," Issac explained. "While my ability allows me to paint snapshots of future events it does not provide any timeline or context in which the paintings can be set."

Ba'al growled in anger. **"Then you are no good to me,"** he snarled raising his hand device and firing a concussion wave at the Human. The blast of concussive force struck Issac like a freight train and sent him flying backwards through the air to slam with bone-jarring force into the far wall of the room.

As Issac crumpled into a heap, badly winded at the foot of the wall Ba'al marched angrily over to him and held his hand device close to his head. He knew the pain he was about to inflict would kill the nishta organism infesting the Humans cells, freeing him from control, but it didn't matter. If Issac Mendez could not give him precise details of future events then he was of no further use to him. Or was he? As he got his temper back under control he lowered his hand back to his side and studied him thoughtfully for a moment.

"**I am going to give you a chance to redeem yourself, Human," **he growled. **"Your power does not tell me much, but that does not matter. I have another task for you, one for which you are ideally suited."**

"I shall do whatever my lord commands," Issac said collecting himself out of his heap against the wall and kneeling before his god.

"**Excellent. Now here is what I wish you to do."**

* * *

**Atlantis**

**A Short Time Later**

Doctor Carson Beckett groaned as consciousness returned to his body. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked up at a progressively darkening sky. He immediately noticed that his telepathic headache had completely dissipated, leaving nothing but blissful silence in his head. Slowly he sat up and noticed the dusk descending upon Atlantis, dusk that was being offset by the brilliant lights of the city. _Evening, _he thought in surprise, _I've slept the rest of the afternoon away. Damn been awhile since I've slept like that, at least my headache is gone._

After stretching his cramped up muscles for a few moments he stood up, knowing he should get back to the city. Though part of him wanted to stay out here in the peace and quiet of the gathering evening, rather than return to the core of the city and all the emotional background noise that was there.

It was very tempting to give into that desire and remain here. But he knew he could not stay here forever, he knew Evan would eventually come out here to check up on him. And if he saw he was awake nag him to come back inside, as Lantean evenings could get somewhat chilly. _Plus I should drop by the infirmary and see how everyone's doing,_ he thought thinking about all the injured people still under the care of his medical staff.

So with a reluctant sigh he closed his eyes for a moment and concentrated on re-establishing his mental shields. As the rejuvenated mind walls slid into place, forming a cephalic barrier between his mind and the rest of the world, he opened his eyes again. Then feeling his duty as the chief medical officer of the Atlantis Expedition calling him, he started walking back towards the transporter station. It was a long walk and he would have another good few minutes of peace.

Minutes that he would treasure for he never really knew when he was going to get some peace again.

* * *

Carson had the transporter station in sight when he saw a faint white flash from inside as someone transported into the compartment from the rest of the city. The absence of emotional noise immediately told him who it was, even before the doors of the transporter/lift compartment opened to disgorge Evan Lorne.

Evan smiled when he saw his friend. "Hi, Carson," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"A lot better, Evan," Carson replied. "My headache's gone at last and my shields are back to full strength, I'm ready to get back to work. I guess you were coming to check up on me."

"I was, its getting dark so I was getting a little worried about you. Rodney wanted to come as well but I persuaded him to let me go alone." Carson smiled, he could guess why Evan had wanted to come alone, he knew that waking him up when he was unprepared to sense another persons emotions would cause him great discomfort.

"Knowing Rodney he was not pleased with that," Carson answered with a smile.

"No he wasn't but when I told him that you cant sense my emotions he understood why I wanted to come alone."

"Did you see Colonel Sheppard, after?" Carson asked easing past his friend into the transporter station.

"I couldn't find him," Evan admitted as he got in the transporter with him. "So I ended up going to see Doctor Weir. She promised to have a word with Rodney and give him some reinforcement in getting the scientists off my back. Then I went to see Hermiod, which was an interesting experience to say the least. It was only later that I found out that Colonel Sheppard had gone for a wander around the city."

"He's always done that when something bothered him," Carson said with a smiled as he pressed the icon for the main tower on the city map. Their was a momentary flash of light and then they were in an identical compartment in the control tower.

The doors opened and Carson momentarily staggered as he suddenly was subjected to a strong spike of emotion, especially sudden concern coming from the direction of the control room.

"Something is going on in Stargate Operations," he said recovering from the sudden shock of the sharp emotional spike. Evan started to open his mouth to speak when all of a sudden the citywide PA system came on.

"Doctor Weir, Colonel Sheppard to Stargate Operations immediately," one of the control room technicians said over the system.

"Great now what," Evan said starting in the direction of the cities control room.

"Not a clue," Carson answered matching his friends pace. "But whatever its caused quite a bit of concern. I can feel it from here."

Evan frowned in concern, knowing that whatever had alarmed the people in the control room so much that Carson could feel it from here could not be a good thing. He picked up his pace and only just refrained from slipping into a super speed run to find out what was happening in the control room. _Please let it not be the Wraith,_ he thought knowing they would not stand much chance against even one hiveship.

* * *

It took only a few moments for the two metahumans to reach the Stargate Operations centre. As they ascended the steps to the control area, Elizabeth Weir appeared from one of the other entrances and raced up the steps with them.

"What is it," Elizabeth asked.

"The long range scanners have detected a group of ships approaching at very high speed," one of the technicians reported. "There on a direct course for Atlantis and are moving too fast for the cities sensors to identify them."

"How many ships and what's their ETA," Elizabeth asked moving to look at the large LCD display screen mounted on the wall of the control room that showed the information from the cities scanners.

"Three ships," the technician answered. "ETA… twelve minutes."

Elizabeth kept her eyes focused on the display screen and the three icons that indicated the approaching ships. Twelve minutes was not much time to prepare for their surprise guests whoever they were.

"Could it be the Asgard," Lorne said speaking up for the first time. "We know that their hyperspace technology is far more advanced than anyone else's."

"Possible, major," Elizabeth replied wondering exactly what the Asgard could want from them. "In fact it is very likely. We will know for sure in twelve minutes. In meantime we better prepare for the worst."

"What's going on," John Sheppard asked as he came up the steps to the control room.

"John we've got a problem."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

**The Network Headquarters**

**A Few Minutes Later**

Laura Hamilton-Ward pushed open the door to the meeting room that she'd returned Peter, Hiro and Ando to after lunch and strode in. It was late afternoon now, giving way to a cool but bright autumn evening. Almost everyone here in the Network were starting to leave either for home or to the pubs, clubs, cinemas and other bits of London nightlife to enjoy themselves. It was Friday night after all.

"Its time to leave," she told the three men. "Everyone is getting ready to go home or go out for the evening. A small caretaking staff will be remaining here if you want to take advantage of our dormitory facilities, alternatively we can set you up in hotels or with someone overnight."

"I think we're all still a bit to awake to retire for the evening," Peter pointed out, the American empathic mimic looking still fully awake and with the haunted look that she was getting good at seeing in him. She could understand why, Claude had told her about Peter's vision, vision that he would be the one person to go nuclear and blow New York off the map. It wasn't an easy thing to live with; though she was sure they would be able to help him prevent the power overload that would cause such a blast. If only he would let them. As she'd said earlier they'd helped other empathic mimics in the past.

"Nevertheless it is evening now," Laura replied. "Everyone is starting to head home either for a quiet evening in or to hit the cities night life. I myself am booked in to go see Les Miserables in the theatre this evening."

"You like the theatre," Peter asked.

"I always have," Laura answered with a smile. "I know it might make me sound a bit boring."

"Not at all, I used to go a lot, sometimes me and Heidi would even team up to badger Nathan into going," Peter replied and inwardly smiled remembering those times. The last time they'd gone was before the accident that crippled Heidi, an accident he knew Nathan blamed himself for as he'd escaped injury by reflexively flying when their car was deliberately rammed from behind.

Nathan.

Peter quietly sighed to himself. Though his brother could be a cold, manipulative bastard when he wanted to be he missed him. He hadn't seen him in weeks, and it didn't look like he would see him again anytime soon. Especially as the US government would be looking for him now, now that he knew about the Stargate and the _Odyssey_ and how they'd been risking the lives of everyone on this planet for the better part of a decade. _Unless I accept Laura's offer of help then they'll never stop chasing me,_ he thought, _and I'll never see Nathan, mom, Heidi or my nephews again. But then again if I accept Laura's offer then what will happen to me? She says they can help me control my powers, save New York from myself, but how and what does it entail?_

"_Time to choose, Peter,"_ he told himself.

"Laura," he asked.

"Yes, Mr Petrelli," Laura replied surprised that Peter had called her by her first name.

"You said earlier that you could help me control my ability, did you really mean that you can?"

"I believe so," Laura answered truthfully. "I will not lie to you, Peter. The kind of gift that you have is a very rare one, worldwide there have only been a handful of empathic mimics like yourself, and none as strong as you are. But as a general rule empathic mimicry like all powers can be controlled, in the end the answer to controlling it will be unique to you. We can only teach you methods that have worked for others. Like the method Claude taught you, that's a very basic one."

"And it works," Peter said. "To a point, what I need really is to stop myself absorbing other powers."

"And that ability is within you, you just have to find the mechanism for doing it," Laura replied. "Why are you asking me this now?"

"Because I need you, I need you're help."

Laura smiled. "Then we will provide it, after all that is why we are here, why we set up the Network in the first place," she said then looked at Hiro. "What about you Mr Nakamura?"

"I fine," Hiro answered. "I know my power."

"Then you have done incredibly well to have learned so much, so quickly," Laura replied before looking at Peter and Ando again. "Now about Stargate Command, have the three of you decided what you want to do?"

"We've talked about it," Peter said.

"And?"

"And we have decided to accept your offer of assistance with regards to our situation with them," Ando said. "We can't well save the world with them on our tails."

"Very well," Laura replied. "I'll arrange it. It won't be easy but I am sure that we can work something out with both Stargate Command and the IOA. Lord Raines can be very persuasive when he needs to be, and you won't meet a more skilled diplomat than him."

"You know I still find that hard to believe," Peter said shaking his head. "Claude is a member of the British upper class, the son of a lord. A lord who's the ambassador to America of all things."

"Believe it, I know some of what happened between Claude and his father in the past but that is for him to tell you, if and when he wants to do so."

Peter nodded, though he knew he would probably never hear that story, Claude's behaviour earlier indicated that it was not something he wished to talk about. And he knew full well how much of a stubborn mule the real life invisible man could be. He had more chance of getting blood from a stone than he had getting answers that Claude Raines did not want to give. A glance at Hiro and Ando showed they knew it to, though they were as curious as he was about it.

"Now then," Laura said. "I have some calls to go and make in light of your choices. As for where you stay this evening that is up to you. Until we get this sorted out with Stargate Command the best place for you to stay would be the dormitories. I can get Claude to sort that out for you if you wish?" Peter, Hiro and Ando exchanged a look then nodded. "Good, I'll set him to work on that then. He'll collect you when he's ready. Now if you'll excuse me."

"Sure," Peter replied. Laura smiled back and left the room, closing the door behind her, and hurried back to her office to make some very important phone calls.

* * *

**USAF Odyssey**

**Earth Orbit, That Same Time**

Colonel Davidson smiled as he read the report that had just been handed to him by damage control, the last of the broken hatches in the lower storage section had been replaced. _Good my ships back in one piece again,_ he thought before handing the report back to the young airman who'd brought it to him.

Then he leaned back in his command chair and thought about the events that had taken place in the lower storage sections of the ship yesterday. It had been astonishing as to how those doors had been literally ripped off their hinges by telekinetic force of immense strength. The telekinesis itself was nothing surprising, he'd seen Ori Priors do amazing things with their telekinetic abilities, but what had been astonishing was that the man who'd wielded it was no Prior. And had apparently had other abilities besides telekinesis, and that apparently the two men that were with him had what could only be described as superpowers of their own. _What were those three men,_ he thought.

A bleeping from the sensor console next to the command chair roused him from his thoughts a moment before the lieutenant on duty spoke up.

"Sir, there's a hyperspace window forming directly ahead," the officer reported a moment before the glowing whirlpool of light and subspace energy that was a hyperspace window burst into existence three thousand kilometres ahead of the _Odyssey_. A millisecond later the sleek, imposing but at the same time reassuring shape of an Asgard O'Neill-class battlecruiser emerged from the window, which folded closed behind the mighty alien warship as if it had never been present at all.

"Colonel the Asgard ship is hailing us," communications called out.

"Put it through," Davidson ordered standing up and moving to look at the big screen off to the side, he preferred communications coming through to the big 42 inch plasma display as opposed to having a holographic screen pop into existence in front of the view port.

For a moment the screen continued to show its normal orbital position and navigational data, and then abruptly changed to the face of an Asgard. The highly intelligent, little grey alien was sitting in one of the familiar Asgard throne like chairs back dropped by the column of pure energy that transcended the multiple levels of the Asgard warships bridge.

"Greetings," the Asgard said. "I am Freyr, commanding the Asgard ship _Samantha Carter_." _Why are SG-1 the ones who always get Asgard ships named after them,_ Davidson thought. _There is nothing special about them, aside from the fact that they're the biggest trouble magnets in the program._

"Greetings Commander Freyr," Davidson replied. "I'm Colonel Davidson of the Earth ship _Odyssey_. How may I help you?"

"Colonel Davidson, I must speak with your leaders immediately," Freyr answered.

"May I ask why?"

"It involves something that we have discovered about some of your race," Freyr replied. "Something that our scientists believes holds the key to the survival of the Asgard race. I cannot explain further however."

"I see," Davidson said. _What the hell is going on now,_ he thought, _I thought the Asgard had decided that we couldn't help them with their genetic problems._ "I will contact the president now. You should be contact shortly, Freyr."

Freyr nodded and disappeared from the screen. The orbital position graphics reappeared showing the Asgard warship with its frightening combination of elegance and predatory fierceness taking up orbit over Earth.

"Communications get me the president," Davidson ordered.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

**Atlantis**

**Five Minutes Later**

Tension hung like a thick, oppressive fog in the air of the Stargate Operations centre. The three incoming mystery ships would be coming out of hyperspace over Lantea in the next few moments, and it was putting everyone on edge. Especially because the ships were moving to fast for the cities long range sensors to properly identify, the only thing they could be certain of at the moment was that they were not Wraith.

Doctor Elizabeth Weir kept her eyes focused on the countdown being displayed on one of the plasma monitors the expedition team had linked into the cities systems to supplement the Ancient holographic display panel. They'd taken all the precautions they'd reasonably could in such a short space of time, Colonel Sheppard was in the drone control chair ready to defend Atlantis and all pilots with the ATA gene were manning the cities fleet of Puddle Jumpers. She hoped they would be necessary as they'd cloaked the city so whoever was coming would not detect them.

Slowly, seemingly in slow motion, the final ten seconds of the countdown performed their dance down to zero. Immediately the digital clock flashed and bleeped repeatedly. Elizabeth took a deep breath and let it out slowly, a moment before the cities sensors emitted a series of chirps.

"Hyperspace windows forming in orbit," Chuck reported. "Confirm three ships."

"Can you identify them?" Elizabeth asked taking some comfort in the fact that Ronon and Teyla were standing supportively behind her.

"Their Asgard, ma'am," Chuck said. "Two O'Neill class battlecruisers and one Jackson-class science cruiser. Their shields are down and reading no activity in their weapons systems."

"The Asgard," Rodney said started. "What are they doing here?"

"I don't know, Rodney," Elizabeth replied.

"We're being hailed by the lead Asgard cruiser," Chuck reported.

"Put it on speakers," Elizabeth ordered already starting to relax knowing that the Asgard would never harm them, they had been firm allies of Earth for the better part of a decade. The speakers crackled.

"Greetings," an Asgard voice said. "I am Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet, commanding the vessel _Mjolnir_. Doctor Weir I am here on a mission vital to the survival of my species, please disengage your cloaking field."

"Disengage the cloak, and then open up a two way visual link with the _Mjolnir,_" Elizabeth ordered before pressing a crystalline control for a citywide announcement. Even as a faint humming sound confirmed that the cities cloaking device was being deactivated. "All personnel stand down and return to normal operations."

"I've established the two way link with Thor's ship," Rodney said.

Elizabeth nodded and turned to the main plasma screen that normally showed the feed from Atlantis' sensors. "Put it on, Rodney," she instructed. Rodney tapped a final command into the console. The screen washed with static interference for a moment, then resolved into the face of an Asgard.

"Thor this is a pleasant surprise," she said feeling a hint of nervousness at directly addressing the Asgard who was principally behind his people's alliance with Earth. "What can we do for you?"

"As I have said I am here on a mission vital to the survival of the Asgard race," Thor replied. "However I would prefer to discuss the particulars face to face. If it is alright with you I would like to transport you to this ship so we can talk."

Elizabeth considered for a few moments. "Rodney," she said. "Tell John he's in charge until I get back."

"You're going up to the Asgard ship," Ronon asked. "Alone."

"I'll be perfectly safe, Ronon," Elizabeth answered. "The Asgard have been honourable allies of Earth for the better part of a decade, if it weren't for them the Goa'uld would have reduced Earth to molten glass long ago."

Ronon reluctantly nodded, though he didn't entirely trust the Asgard. Though they seemed honourable enough if more than a little condescending, at least Hermiod was, they were aliens and his experiences with the Wraith and the brief encounter with the Goa'uld last year had made him very weary of strangers and non-Humans in particular.

Elizabeth looked back at the communications screen where Thor was waiting patiently for her answer. Or at least he seemed to be waiting patiently, it was impossible to tell what an Asgard was feeling just by looking at them. The lack of body language by the small, grey-skinned aliens was something that was somewhat disconcerting, though having dealt with Hermiod for so long she was used to it.

"I'm ready, Thor," she said. Thor nodded slightly and disappeared from the screen as he broke the connection from his end; a moment later Elizabeth vanished in the silvery-white flash and almost musical tone of an Asgard transporter beam, instantly being whisked from the city to the orbiting cruiser _Mjolnir_.

"I wonder what's provoked the Asgard into coming here with three ships," Teyla wondered aloud.

"Ten to one I'd say it has something to with, Major Lorne," Rodney said. "And his ability to move at super speed, the Asgard have a vested interest in genetics."

"And why is that," Teyla asked.

"Because they're dying," Rodney answered. "Unless the answer to their genetic problems are found soon then the Asgard race will die."

Neither Teyla nor Ronon knew how to respond to that, it was a terrible thing. The possibility of an entire race of being dying, vanishing from this universe forever, was terrible. Though they had both heard of it happening, the Wraith were very guilty of it, wiping out entire tribes of Humans whenever they became technologically advanced enough to pose a threat to the vampire like aliens power.

After a moment Teyla spoke. "Then I hope an answer can be found soon," she said.

"So do I, Teyla," Rodney said, he didn't want to see the Asgard gone, he knew what it would mean to his homeworld – how exposed they would be – should the Asgard vanish and some vengeance filled surviving Goa'uld or the Ori hear of it. "So do I."

**

* * *

Asgard Vessel Mjolnir**

**Lantea Orbit**

Elizabeth Weir blinked away the after image caused by the brilliant flash of the transporter beam, and found herself standing in a great room presumably aboard Thor's ship. A large viewing port looking out upon Lantea took up the entirety of one wall, and unable to stop herself she moved over and looked out.

The planet that was home to Atlantis was beautiful to look at from space – with its vast global ocean that made it appear as a polished aquamarine jewel. In its own way Lantea was as beautiful from space as Earth was, though somewhat lacking in major features beyond the ocean and the single large continent. _Earth must have looked a bit like this long ago,_ she thought remember her high school geography lessons about the origins of the continents and how they have evolved since before the time of the dinosaurs.

The sound and flashes of two transporter beams from behind her drew her out of admiring the mouth watering view. Calmly she turned in space to find herself face to face with two Asgard, Asgard who looked completely identical to her eyes.

"Doctor Weir," the slightly taller of the two Asgard said, his voice confirming his identity as being Thor. "I thank you for agreeing to come to this ship so promptly."

"Its no problem, Thor," Elizabeth replied. "I can guess what exactly has brought you here."

"I suspected that you would," Thor answered then gestured to the second Asgard. "Allow me to present Heimdall one of my people's greatest geneticists."

"Greetings, Doctor Weir," Heimdall said in a voice that sounded almost feminine. "I have heard great things about you and the exploits of your expedition team in this galaxy as you battle against the Wraith. It is a great honour to meet you."

Elizabeth inclined her head slightly. "On behalf of all the people in Atlantis I thank you, Heimdall," she replied. "Now shall we get down to business? Thor did say that you were here on a mission of the utmost importance, and that it had to do with the survival of your species."

"That is correct," Heimdall answered. "As you may or may not be aware for the past several of your years I have been conducting research into the genetic history of the Asgard, in the hopes of correcting the sterility and genetic degradation problems we inadvertently created through our genetic manipulation program."

"I did read that SGC mission report, yes," Elizabeth responded then smiled. "You're here about Major Lorne, aren't you?"

"Correct. What you may not know is that in examinations of Human DNA I have uncovered a number of genetic factors that have great promise for saving the Asgard race. Your form is very similar to the form that we ourselves had many thousands of years ago."

"And you hoped out physiology would provide the clues you need to save yourselves?"

"Correct, unfortunately the key link required to save my species has long eluded us. We believed we had located it in General O'Neill unfortunately analysis proved otherwise. But now I believe in Major Lorne, we have found the missing link.

"My analysis of the scans conducted by Hermiod show that he possess a unique set of genes, I believe this is what explains his amazing ability to run at such high speeds," Hermiod continued. "I also believe that this gene sequence is the key component that has previously eluded us. However I cannot be certain with just Hermiond's scan data to go on, so with your permission I wish to land my ship on Atlantis. I would also like to directly speak with Major Lorne and run a few tests."

"That will be up to him," Elizabeth replied. "I will ask him if he will allow you to perform the tests, but the final decision is his."

"I understand, and that is how it should be. I assure you that I will honour any refusal."

"In the intervening time the _Mjolnir _and the _Valhalla_ will remain in orbit over this planet," Thor said. "The Asgard High Council has ordered that we defend this planet and Atlantis at any cost. To assist in that goal and with your permission I wish to deploy a number of orbital defence platforms over this planet. Atlantis will be tied into the platforms systems allowing you to control the platforms if they are required."

"Wraith ships pass by this area quiet often," Elizabeth pointed out. "They may well detect your presence here."

"We have considered that and to prevent this both our ships and the orbital platforms will remain cloaked at all times."

"I see. Very well, you may deploy your platforms."

"Excellent. We will begin immediately," Thor said sounding pleased to Elizabeth's ear.

"Good. Now if you will please return me to Atlantis I must brief my senior staff on the reason for your presence. I will also speak with Major Lorne regarding, Heimdall's request."

Thor nodded a gesture that he had picked up from Jack O'Neill after dealing with him for so long. Then he walked over to the rooms control console and manipulated the control stones. Instantly the transporter activated and Elizabeth vanished in a flash of silver-white light, being instantaneously returned to the Stargate Operations centre of the Ancient cityship below.

Thor and Heimdall studied the location where the Human woman had been standing mere seconds earlier. The meeting had gone better than either of them had hoped it would, Doctor Weir was indeed a wise and honourable woman, who obviously deeply cared about the welfare of all the people she as leader was responsible for.

"I must return to my ship as well, Supreme Commander," Heimdall said softly in their native language. "I must begin my preparations."

"Very well," Thor answered. Heimdall manipulated a tiny remote device she – though it had been a millennium since his kind had had genders he still thought of himself as male and Heimdall as female – had in the palm of her hand. Heimdall instantly vanished in a transporter beam, leaving him alone in the great hall.

Calmly Thor walked up to the viewing port and looked out and down at the planet below, and for the first time in many years allowed himself to feel a twinge of hope for the survival of his race. And as many times before in the last few years it looked like it was going to be a Human, a Tau'ri, who held the key to the survival of the Asgard race. A Human with an incredible, unheard of ability, and Thor couldn't help but wonder if their were more Humans like this Major Lorne. If there were then it could suggest that they were evolving on a path that could one day make them even greater than the Ancients had been at the height of their power.

Thor hoped that Heimdall's succeeded in his research, for he would enjoy watching and seeing what the Humans of Earth became over the next few thousand years.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

**British Embassy**

**Washington DC, USA**

**A Short Time Later**

Ambassador Lord Richard Raines slowly put the phone down and leaned back in his leather backed chair deep in thought. He had just received a call from the last person he would have expected to hear from, aside from his son that was.

The call had been from Laura Hamilton-Ward.

A call in which she had told him that The Network had Peter Petrelli, Hiro Nakamura and Ando Masahashi, and that they had accepted her offer of assistance both with their powers and with Stargate Command. The fact that she knew all about the latter was no surprise to him, having known Laura as long as he had he knew she and The Network had away of finding things like that out. Though in making her offer to the three men she had put him in an awkward position – even though the Network wouldn't make such an offer without clearing it with the Prime Minister first.

Still it made his position on the issue difficult, especially as he couldn't well tell the IOA about The Network and what they did. He would have to think up someway of telling President Hayes and the others on the IOA that his government had the people they were looking for, without revealing what he knew about both The Network and the fact that he had known for a very long time that there were individuals on this planet who possessed incredible abilities.

After a moment he sighed and looked around the dark wood panelled walls of his office and the inspirational paintings that hung on the walls, paintings that depicted different events in Britain's glorious past. Normally just looking at them and the great heroes of the past helped him focus his mind and decide what he was going to do about something, but this time they were of no help.

A sudden knock at the door made him jump slightly in his seat. "Come in," he called sitting up straight. The door opened immediately and the Royal Navy officer who served as his aide came in and stood at attention in front of his desk.

"Forgive me for disturbing you, sir," Lieutenant Commander Gerald Paceman said.

"Its okay, Gerald what is it? And for goodness sakes stand easy," Richard replied.

"Yes, sir sorry," Gerald replied shifting easily to an at ease posture. "We've received an urgent communication from President Hayes; he is calling all senior IOA members to the White House."

Richard frowned slightly. "Did he say why," he asked.

"Yes sir. An Asgard battlecruiser arrived in orbit a short time ago, from what little was contained in the message Commander Freyr says they are here on a mission of utmost importance to the survival of the Asgard."

"They've probably come to illicit SG-1's help for something, again," Richard responded remembering all the copies of the SGC mission reports he'd read over the last few years. As he recalled whenever the Asgard came to Earth be it by Stargate or by one of their mighty battlecruisers it was usually to get SG-1's help with something.

"Very well, tell President Hayes that I will be there as soon as possible," Richard continued.

"Yes sir."

"Dismissed," Richard said. Gerald nodded and withdrew from the office and closing the door behind him so Richard was once more alone in the peace of his office.

Richard leaned back in his chair. _I wonder what exactly the Asgard want this time,_ he thought then remembered the first time he'd actually seen an Asgard when Thor beamed into the room where the American government had finally come clean to the other permanent members of the security council about the existence of the Stargate. Though he'd been aware of the existence of the Asgard for a number of years beforehand it had still been startling to find himself face to face with a real life alien. Almost as shocking as the habit Claude had had as a child of literally going invisible when told off or upset about something.

After a moment he sighed and began working out just how he could explain to Henry Hayes that the United Kingdom had Peter Petrelli, Hiro Nakamura and Ando Masahashi, without explaining how they had gotten to Britain and not mentioning The Network at all.

He honestly did not know if it was possible; Hayes was far from stupid and was far more open minded than his predecessor had been. _But I have to try,_ he thought, _but if I cannot then I will have to come clean about the whole thing._

* * *

**Conference Room**

**Atlantis, That Same Time**

Silence reigned in the old Lantean High Council chamber that had become the conference facility for the senior members of the Atlantis Expedition. For the last few minutes Doctor Elizabeth Weir had been explaining the reasons – as given by Thor and Heimdall – for the Asgard arrival with a science ship and no less than two of their mighty warships. Now everyone was quiet as they digested the reason for the Asgard coming here and what the Asgard were going to do to ensure the protection of the city.

"I suppose it's only to be expected given that the Asgards genetic problems are becoming desperate," Doctor Rodney McKay said breaking the silence at last. "A few years ago the SGC ran a projection based on what we knew about the Asgards condition, it was estimated that within fifty to a hundred years the Asgard race would be extinct."

"That's a chilling prospect," Sheppard said, knowing how bad loosing the Asgard would be for Earth. For so long they had been the only thing standing between Earth and complete Armageddon.

"To quote a certain Jaffa I know 'indeed'," Rodney replied. "Given how close they are to going the way of the dinosaurs, then I'm not surprised that the prospect of a cure for their condition has brought the Asgard running. Though I can't believe they are going to put such high tech defences over this planet."

"That would certainly help in the defence department should you-know-who show up," Sheppard commented feeling a little giddy about the prospect of having the advanced Asgard energy weapons to play with in the defence of Atlantis. Weapons that he was sure were more than powerful enough to destroy any Wraith hiveship and would give even the Replicators a nasty surprise should they try attacking them again.

"Yes but we are getting off track here," Rodney pointed out while inwardly sighing at Sheppard's obvious enthusiasm at the prospect of having Asgard weapons to play with. It was so predictable that as a soldier he would react that way, predictable and annoying from his perspective.

"Very true, Rodney," Elizabeth agreed. "John I need you to talk to Major Lorne, see if he's willing to let the Asgard perform their tests, but whatever you do don't make it an order."

"Okay," Sheppard replied, though he would never make it an order – unlike some other people in the military that he knew. Helping the Asgard was Lorne's personal decision and his alone; if he chose to help them, then John would do whatever he could to give him the time to do so. If that meant changing duty schedules around he would do it, even though he despised the extra paperwork that came with doing that, he had more than enough paperwork as it was.

Inwardly he shuddered and to banish the thought of the mountain of paperwork that he knew was in his office waiting for his attention he looked around the room at the rest of the senior staff; and noticed that Doctor Carson Beckett seemed to be somewhat distracted. And now that he thought about it the Scotsman had been distracted from the moment Elizabeth had said why the Asgard had come here.

"Hey doc," he asked. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Carson replied and hesitated before speaking again. "Before we continue there is something I need to tell you all." As he spoke he sensed surprise from both Elizabeth and Rodney as they realised what he was intending to do. Not that he really had much of a choice now, the Asgard would be bound to detect him sooner or later, and truth be told he didn't want to hide what he was from his friends and colleagues anymore.

"And what is that, doctor," Colonel Caldwell asked from his own seat, he had been included in this briefing as while the _Daedalus_ was here he had a responsibility to protect Atlantis. A responsibility he took deadly seriously. It didn't escape his notice that Doctor's Weir and McKay seemed to realise what the amiable Scotsman was going to say, though everyone else in the room remained completely in the dark.

"Major Lorne is not the only person in Atlantis with superhuman abilities," Carson said taking the plunge and hoping this turned out alright.

For a moment a deep, profound silence thick with almost everyone's shock and surprise hung in the air.

"There are more people who can run as fast as Major Lorne here in Atlantis," Teyla asked her mind reeling at the prospect, and the realisation that they was a lot more to the people of Earth than she knew. Obviously much more than even they themselves knew.

"No, Teyla. Evan is the only one in Atlantis with that particular gift, the gene that is responsible for superpowers behaves differently in everyone. There is one other person here in Atlantis with powers but they are very different to, Major Lorne's."

"You seem to know quite a bit about this," Sheppard pointed out. "And now that I think about it you didn't seem at all surprised when Lorne told us about his ability. You've known about him all along haven't you?"

"Yes but as a doctor and a friend I could not reveal that fact without his permission."

"I understand that. And nor would anyone here ever ask you to betray a patients confidence," Sheppard replied. "But that doesn't explain how you know so much about superpowers. The only way I think of to explain how you know is…"

"…if I have powers myself," Carson finished for him. "And you would be correct."

Silence greeted his words, but for him it was not a true silence. He rarely experienced true silence anymore, aware as he was of the emotions of almost everyone around him whether he wanted to be or not. And right now he sensed the shock of almost everyone in the room with the exceptions of Elizabeth and Rodney who'd already known what he was, and Colonel Caldwell – whose emotions he couldn't sense at all, and hadn't been able to since last year when the Goa'uld infested trust had put a symbiote in his head. Though the symbiote was long gone, removed and killed by Hermiod, he was still not able to sense Steven Caldwell's emotions, why he had absolutely no idea.

Finally it was Caldwell who broke the silence. "You have powers," he questioned. Carson nodded in confirmation and Caldwell shook his head. "First Lorne, now you, who else in this city is going to turn out to have superpowers? So what can you do, doctor?"

"My abilities are telepathic in nature."

"Telepathic, you mean you can read ours thoughts?" Caldwell asked inwardly shivering at that thought. A persons mind was really the only place they could be truly alone – the thought that anyone, even someone as good natured as Carson Beckett, could violate the sanctity of a man's mind was… disturbing to say the very least.

"You can relax, colonel. I'm not that kind of telepath. I'm what is termed an empathic telepath."

"Which means," Sheppard asked.

"It means that Carson can sense emotions," Rodney replied earning a greatful look of his friend as he knew Carson didn't like detailing what he could do.

"Oh, cool," Sheppard said impressed, he had thought Lorne's super-speed trick was impressive, Carson's seemed even more incredible. "Though I get the impression there are downsides."

"Oh yes, I sense emotion whether I want to or not. Over the years I've learned how to create a kind of shield in my mind to keep from drowning in a sea of other peoples feelings," Carson answered. "Even so strong emotions penetrate and if that happens to often I get a telepathic headache. A way to describe one is like the worst aspects of a migraine and being hung over put together."

Everyone around the table cringed and winced at that thought. "Ouch," Sheppard said. "Do you get them often?"

"Not really thankfully."

"Why have you never said about your ability before," Teyla asked speaking for the first time.

"It's a secret, Teyla. Though it would probably surprise you to learn how often I have thought about saying something, but the time just never seemed to be right" Carson answered. "Until very recently there was only one other person in Atlantis who knew that I was a metahuman."

"Let me guess that person was Lorne," Sheppard said and Carson nodded in affirmation. "And what's a metahuman?"

"It's what we generally called, I believe the term originates with DC comics," Carson replied. "Its better than 'special' or 'super', we're really not that different to normal people, just we have a gene sequence that normal people don't. Strictly speaking, colonel you could count as a type of metahuman. You may not have any powers the way me and Evan do but your physiology is slightly different from everyone else here due to your strong ATA gene." Sheppard's eyes widened slightly at that thought.

"So why say about your ability now," Ronon asked.

"I've been thinking about it ever since just after the explosion last week," Carson answered. "Especially after Evan revealed his speed to everyone when he saved, Elizabeth from being crushed by that damaged support beam."

"Carson told me shortly afterwards," Elizabeth said. "And I believe Rodney learned later that same evening." Rodney nodded in confirmation and remembered how he'd reacted when Carson had told him about his power, he'd been shocked to say the least, but he'd understood why the amiable Scot had never said anything.

"I've been thinking about telling the rest of you ever since," Carson added. "But I could never summon up the nerve to speak up about it in meetings."

"I understand, it's not an easy thing to talk about," Teyla said hoping Carson would sense her sympathy and understanding for the position he was in. She had been placed in a very similar awkward position just over two years ago when Carson and Elizabeth discovered and told her where she and some other Athosians gift to sense the Wraith came from. Of all her people she had only shared that knowledge with two others, her very dear but now passed on friend Charrin and her beloved Canaan, who had the gift himself.

"I know you do," Carson said.

"To echo Ronon, why say about it now," Sheppard asked though he already suspected what the answer would be.

"Because of the Asgard," Carson confirmed. "Quite the way metahuman genes work is complicated and varies with individuals, it is very unlikely that the Asgard will find the answers they are searching for just by looking at the DNA of one individual."

"So you're going to let them examine your DNA as well," Sheppard asked.

"Yes and with permission I would like to assist them with their research," Carson replied.

"I don't see a problem with that," Elizabeth said. "Provided it does not interfere with your duties as head of medicine here on Atlantis then you can help the Asgard all you want, Carson."

Carson smiled. "Thank you, Elizabeth," he answered.

"You're welcome," Elizabeth replied. "Does anyone else wish to say anything?"

"There is one thing," Rodney said. "And its going completely off topic, Radek and I were searching through a newly uncovered part of the cities database yesterday."

"And," Elizabeth prompted.

"We found something very interesting," Rodney said. "Apparently the Ancients themselves were experimenting with powering the city by means other than Zed-PM's. Specially they were looking at geothermal energy.

"They built an undersea drilling platform to tap into this planets mantle and extract huge amounts of energy, far more energy than we have been able to extract with similar systems back on Earth."

"How much," Caldwell asked.

"Enough to satisfy 25 of the cities energy requirements, if we can find the platform and reattach its tether to the city then we'll be able to hugely reduced the load on our Zed-PM."

"Find the platform, you mean its lost, Rodney," Carson asked.

"Apparently, we do have its last recorded position but that was over ten thousand years ago and, plate tectonics will have carried it some distance. The Ancients apparently abandoned the project during the war with the Wraith. My guess is it was taking too many resources away from the war."

"We need to find that platform," Sheppard said.

"Agreed," Elizabeth replied. "Okay then, Rodney there is two things I want you to do. One hail Heimdall's ship and give it clearance to land on the west pier. Second draw up a search grid to find the platform."

"Right," Rodney acknowledged.

"Is there anything else," Elizabeth asked. No one spoke up. "Then this meeting is adjourned," she said standing up in clear signal that this meeting was over. Everyone else stood up and slowly filed out of the room with the exception of Carson who remained seated.

"Carson," Elizabeth asked. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Elizabeth," Carson replied. "That went better than I thought it was going to go, telling everyone about what I can do."

"I told you the other day that if someone was a true friend they'll understand why you've never said about your power before," Elizabeth reminded the Scotsman.

"Rodney understood when I told him," Carson admitted. "Its never an easy thing to talk about with normal Humans, Elizabeth. In my experience, and in Carolyn's experience, there are few who would understand."

"Thankfully people here in Atlantis are more open minded than most," Elizabeth pointed out. "Exposure to the wider universe has that effect."

"True," Carson agreed before standing up himself. "Now if you'll excuse me, Elizabeth. I have some patients who need my attention."

"How are they doing?"

"Everyone is out of danger now, thankfully. Some of them should be ready for release in the next day or so."

"I'm glad."

"So am I," Carson replied before leaving the room. Elizabeth watched him go, she could see that he was much more relaxed now than he had been over the last few days. Revealing what he could do to the senior staff and not having a negative reaction had obviously lifted a considerable weight off his broad shoulders. She just hoped that whenever her powers showed up – if they ever did – the reaction would be the same.

Then she sighed and left herself, making sure she put all thoughts of metahumans out of her mind for the time being at least.

After all she did have a city to run.

* * *

**Elsewhere In Atlantis**

**Ten Minutes Later**

Major Evan Lorne smiled as he stood on one of the main towers many balconies looking out at the elegant metal and crystal towers of Atlantis, glowing brilliantly with the reflected golden light of the slowly setting sun. The sight was soothing, though not quite as soothing as going out to the end of one of the piers and gazing at the ocean, but it was enough for now. Not for the first time he was tempted to dig out his painting stuff and paint the scene he saw from here, it would be worth it even if he could never show it to anyone.

Feeling a pang of hunger in his stomach he sighed. He would normally have had dinner by now, but he hadn't today as the mess hall had been crammed with more people than normal. In fact it had been packed, since no one here in Atlantis was doing anything work related today after this mornings memorial service. And everyone had been gossiping and speculating about the reason for the surprise arrival of three Asgard ships over this planet, two of them battlecruisers rumoured to be commanded by Thor himself. With no tables free he hadn't even bothered to get food and just come out here to wait a bit for the crowds to disperse.

Continuing to gaze over the breathtaking skyline of Atlantis he thought about the gossip that he had overheard, running through it all in his mind. Most of the scientists especially the geneticists seemed to be under the impression that he was the reason why the Asgard had taken the unprecedented step of coming here. And while that was flattering he doubted it was the case, he personally suspected that the Asgard were here for another reason. _Who knows maybe they've come to help us wipe the Wraith out of existence,_ he thought.

A strange humming sound from overhead caught his attention and he looked up above the line of the gleaming skyscrapers. To see an Asgard vessel that was slightly smaller than the _Daedalus_ but not by much coming into land, the silvery-white metal of its hull catching the sunlight seemingly making the ship glow, the small size and the configuration marked it out as a Jackson-class science cruiser.

"It's a beautiful sight isn't it," Colonel John Sheppard abruptly said from behind him making him jump and spin around to face his superior officer. "Seeing one of those ships coming into land," Sheppard continued.

"They are beautiful ships, sir," Lorne agreed and he meant it. Asgard vessels were beautiful ships to look at, they did not look threatening, but as many a Goa'uld had found out the hard way Asgard vessels were deadly opponents in battle. "Though I'm curious about why three of them have come here at once. Not that I'm complaining, they'll give any Wraith who challenge them a nasty shock."

Sheppard chuckled. "That's true, though I wouldn't underestimate the Wraiths chances against the Asgard should they face each other in battle; the Wraith did defeat the Ancients after all," he replied.

"True," Lorne conceded. "Still it would definitely be an interesting battle."

"Yes it would and one I would pay good money to watch," Sheppard answered.

"Have they said why they are here, sir?"

"They have, and while they are going to deploy some defence platforms over this planet that is not the main reason why they have come."

"There giving us some of their weapons?"

"Yes, cool isn't it?"

"Definitely," Lorne agreed. "So what's the primary reason for the Asgard coming here?"

"Easy, they are here because of you."

"Me?" Lorne repeated. "They're here because of what I can do aren't they? They want to poke and prod my DNA don't they?"

"Only if you're willing to allow them to," Sheppard answered. "Carson is going to let them look at his DNA." Sheppard shook his head. "I really can't believe it, that the doc has powers and no one here has ever caught onto it. Save you of course."

"No he told me, I wouldn't have suspected otherwise," Lorne replied. "Like me, Carson is very good at keeping secrets. He trusted me with his secret so I knew I could trust him with mine, he saw me run once just after I got here. I thought I was alone I didn't realise Carson also goes out to the piers whenever he gets a telepathic headache."

"Yeah he mentioned those, they don't sound very pleasant."

"There not, I've seen what he's like when he has one a few times. Though they pass relatively quickly if he's left alone and there is no one within his perceptive range. At least no one whose emotions he can sense. He cant sense mine, according to him its something to do with my power. I remember he told me that not being able to feel my emotions was like a breath of fresh air to him."

"So that's why you two became friends."

"Its one of the things we have in common yes, but we do have similar interests as well. You should go fishing with Carson sometime, it can be quite fun."

"I might just do that one day, though fishing is not really my thing. I prefer golf."

"To each there own, sir," Lorne replied with a smile. "My father loves playing golf, one day I'll have to introduce you."

"That might be fun. But we're getting a little off track here, the Asgard will be wanting an answer from you once that ship has touched down."

Lorne sighed softly. "I'm inclined to help the Asgard," he admitted. "If I weren't I wouldn't have allowed Hermiod to scan me in the first place. I just I am a little worried about what the Asgard tests will involve."

"Yeah well, that's understandable."

"The other concern I have is that it could affect my duties, I don't really want that to happen."

"It wont, I'll make sure of it. Even if it means I have to shuffle duty schedules around a bit to accommodate. We're past due for a change in the schedules anyway."

"I see, I guess thanks are in order then, sir."

"You're welcome," Sheppard replied then sighed. "Now if you'll excuse me I have to go, there's a ton of paperwork with my name on it waiting in my office."

Lorne winced slightly. Paperwork was the bane of command, he had enough of his own and he had far fewer responsibilities than Colonel Sheppard. "Good luck, sir," he said.

"Thanks, I'm going to need it to make a dent in the pile," Sheppard replied with a smile before walking away. Lorne watched him go, then feeling a little better smiled and looked back out across the city, in the direction of the now landed Asgard vessel. _I'll help them,_ he thought, _who knows if mine and Carson's DNA provides them with the answers they need they might just be kind enough to name some ships after us._

After a moment he sighed to himself and left the balcony. It was time to go and see the Asgard.


	18. Chapter 18

Authors Note: I would like to thank Bob Regent for all his help with the IOA discussion scene. Without his help this story would still be stuck in the mires of writers block

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

**West Pier**

**Atlantis, A Few Minutes Later**

Major Evan Lorne worked hard to control the butterflies of nerves flickering around in his stomach as he approached the landed Asgard ship. Before now he had never really been examined by someone who wanted to understand his abilities and how they worked, in fact he'd gone out of his way to avoid it after those two men had tried to capture him when he was a teenager.

Yet now here he was approaching a ship belong to the greatest allies and friends his planet had, a ship that had come all the way here from the Ida galaxy specifically to examine him and what he could do. It brought back the memories of that day twelve years ago with vivid clarity, how those two men one a creepy Haitian who never said a word and the other with horned rimmed glasses had stepped out of the bushes when he'd been on his way back from high school. How the latter had looked at him like he was some lab rat to be poked and prodded, and how he'd only narrowly escaped them by running at super speed. It was not an experience he was ever likely to forget.

He didn't realise he had stopped dead still till he felt a hand on his shoulder, making him jump and spin around. Reflexively he assumed a defensive stance only to relax when he saw that it was Carson Beckett.

"You're a bit jumpy, Evan," Carson said looking at his friend in concern. "Are you okay, you looked a little pale?"

"I'm fine, Carson," Lorne replied taking a deep breath – tasting the salt in the air – and let it out slowly. "I was... I was just remembering what happened to me twelve years ago, how those men tried to grab me. This whole situation with the Asgard coming here, wanting to examine me, its just bringing it all back."

"You don't have to go through with this if you don't want to," Carson reminded him. "The Asgard can just look at me if it would make you feel better."

Lorne shook his head. "No," he said. "No I need to do this, I let Hermiod scan me earlier starting this whole thing, the least I can is follow it through."

Carson nodded in understanding. "Then let's go aboard and do this," he said. "Believe it or not I'm as nervous about this as you are."

Lorne chuckled. "I can believe it. So how to do we go…"

Brilliant silver white light enveloped them as he spoke and the city dissolved away and reformed into what was clearly the interior of an Asgard ship. The large open spaces and techno-Norse look to the design and architecture made that perfectly obvious.

"…aboard," Lorne finished shaking his head while smiling. The Asgard sure knew how to pick times to beam you somewhere; he just wished they would give some kind of warning before they did it.

"That was easy," Carson added from beside him, looking around in curiosity as he had never been on an Asgard ship before. He had to admit it was a beautiful sight to look at, far more elegant and graceful than the utilitarian interior of an Earth-built ship. It was distinctively alien while at the same time the Norse elements involved gave it an eerie almost Human feel. It put Carson in the mind of what a Viking spaceship would have been like if those ancient, brilliantly seafaring warriors had still been around today.

"Its eerie isn't it," Lorne said looking at his friend. "So alien yet at the same time so familiar."

"Aye, even more so than Atlantis," Carson agreed. Lorne nodded in understanding as while Atlantis did look strange to their eyes it was beautifully familiar and easily appreciated from a pure aesthetic standpoint. Because after all the Ancients had been Humans, really advanced Humans but Humans nevertheless, and their sense of aesthetics had not been that different to their own. _Though I wonder what the Ancients would have made of me and Carson,_ Lorne thought, _especially if they knew what we can do._

Before either of them could speak again a door on the other side of the hall-like room opened and the small, delicate form of an Asgard appeared.

"Greetings," the diminutive alien said as he/she approached. It didn't escape both metahumans notice that this particular Asgard spoke with a more feminine sounding voice than Hermiod. "I am, Heimdall," the Asgard continued.

"Major Evan Lorne," Lorne replied before gesturing to Carson. "This is Doctor Carson Beckett."

"It is a great pleasure to meet you," Heimdall answered as she approached the alien soldier whose DNA held an incredible secret, a secret that she quietly hoped would solve the genetic degradation that was threatening to do what even the Replicators had not been able to. Drive the Asgard race into extinction.

"The feeling is mutual, Heimdall," Lorne said with a smile.

"I must admit I was expecting you to come alone, Major Lorne," Heimdall commented before looking at Doctor Beckett. "Doctor Beckett, welcome. May I ask the reasons for you're presence here?"

"Its really quite simple," Carson replied. "I'm here to help you; you see Evan here is not the only individual in Atlantis were special abilities."

"Though I am the only one who can run at super-speed," Lorne broke in with a grin and laughed at the momentary look of friendly irritation the Scotsman shot his way.

"Please elaborate, Doctor Beckett," Heimdall said slightly startled at the possibility that there were more individuals in Atlantis with such incredible abilities. "There are other people in Atlantis with abilities?"

"To be exact one more," Carson replied. "Me. I came here for two reasons, one having two samples of metahuman DNA is better than just having one. Plus I am familiar with the genetics of our kind; if you are willing to let me I can help you with your analysis."

"Any assistance would be most welcome," Heimdall answered. "Might I ask what abilities you have, Doctor Beckett?"

"You may. I'm an empathic telepath; I can read and manipulate Human emotions."

Had they been capable of doing so Heimdall's pure black eyes would have widened at Carson's words. All tests done by the Asgard over the centuries of quiet observations of Earth had shown that advanced mental abilities such as telepathy and telekinesis should have been beyond Earth Humans for at least another ten thousand years. Now it appeared that her people had once again underestimated the people of that distant, alien world. He couldn't help but wonder what other secrets lay buried in the DNA of the Humans known in their own galaxy by the name the Goa'uld had given them, the name Tau'ri.

"Very interesting," Heimdall said at last. "And very impressive, are there more people on your world with such advanced abilities?"

"There are," Carson replied.

"Most intriguing," Heimdall said thoughtfully, she would have to send a message to the _Samantha Carter_ orbiting Earth; hopefully Freyr would be able to find some of these other superpowered Humans and at the very least get DNA samples off them. The more DNA she had to work with the more likely she was to find a cure in time to save her people as the current generation of clones was barely viable.

"We have a great deal of work to do," Heimdall added at last. "If you will follow me to my lab we will begin."

With that the delicate-looking, highly intelligent alien turned and walked away heading deeper into the interior of the ship. The two metahumans exchanged a glance, both knowing it was impossible for them to back out of this now, they were now committed to seeing this through whatever happened, before following Heimdall out of the room.

* * *

**The White House**

**Washington DC, Ten Minutes Later**

President Henry Hayes resisted the impulse to start pacing while he waited for the British ambassador and IOA member to arrive. Everyone who needed to know why the Asgard had come to Earth at this time was here, with the exception of Lord Richard Raines. Still Hayes was not concerned, knowing what time of day it was he wouldn't be at all surprised if the ambassador had gotten caught up in a mid-afternoon traffic. Even politicians and senior diplomats were not immune to getting caught up in traffic jams.

"This is ridiculous," Colonel Chekov said softly from where the big Russian sat on one of the couches. "How much longer are we going to have to wait?"

"Traffic is murder at this time of day," General Jack O'Neill from Homeworld Security pointed out.

"General O'Neill has a point," Ambassador Li of China pointed out. "And this meeting was called at very short notice. It is very likely that Ambassador Raines is stuck in a traffic jam, or delayed by his duties."

At that moment there came a polite knock on one of the doors to the Oval Office, a few seconds later the door opened wide and Ambassador Lord Richard Raines of the United Kingdom walked into the room flanked by the secret service agents seconded to him for the duration.

"Mr President, Ambassadors, General," Richard said. "I apologise for my tardiness but I was delayed by heavy traffic. I swear that road gets busier everyday."

"Probably does," Ambassador Renard of France replied as Richard sat down on one of the other couches.

"Right now that we're all here we can get down to the matter at hand," Hayes said. "The Asgard ship that arrived in orbit approximately two hours ago brought with it some information that has profound consequences for both us as a species and for the very survival of the Asgard race."

"Strong words, Mr President," Ambassador Li commented. "But what does it mean?"

Listening quietly Richard Raines felt a sudden cold chill run down his spine. Unlike his IOA colleagues he had a very good idea where this was going. The Asgard had somehow learned of the existence of metahumans, something that was bound to intrigue them considering how close the Asgard were to joining the dinosaurs in extinction. And now the Asgard had revealed what they knew to the SGC – which was not a situation to be easily welcomed.

"General O'Neill please explain," Hayes instructed.

"Yes, sir," Jack replied formally before switching to his more normal, non-formal means of speaking. "Okay kids listen up, I've spoke with Freyr. Apparently some people amongst us have superpowers."

Silence greeted his words, almost everyone locked in a mixture of shock and disbelief. Everyone that was except Richard Raines, the existence of metahumans was nothing new to him after all. If anything he was concerned, concerned for his son and for the others like him, concerned for what could happen next. Yet at the same time he was curious, wondering just how the Asgard had learned of the existence of metahumans and the extraordinary, frequently physics-defying abilities that they possessed.

"Superpowers," Mr Woolsey said at last breaking the silence. "Are they serious?"

"The Asgard have never been known to be anything but serious," Colonel Chekov reminded him. "They are in quite dire straits when it comes to the health of their civilization I'm assuming of course that these 'super' people are in some way genetically different to the more 'normal' people?"

"Not a clue." Jack said, "But considering what the Ancient gene allows us to do God knows what it probably is, the Asgard are looking for a cure to their own genetic damage so I guess that these superpowers might help them out somehow. Thor's already at Atlantis going through their databases to find anything that might explain why these individuals have these powers."

"You expect us to believe that there are people running around like superheroes from the comic books?" Ambassador Renard sneered. "We have seen a lot of things since the existence of the Stargate was disclosed to us but nothing that would show that anyone on this world has these abilities. I think that people are reaching for an explanation here and going for the wrong ones."

"No." Raines spoke up his voice carrying across the room the others looked to him in silence. While he had only been given minimal information as to what the meeting had been about, only that it has something major to do with the Asgard. He had to intervene now to prevent this particular meeting descending into total chaos, thankfully he already had authorisation from her Majesty Queen Elizabeth herself and from the commanders of The Network to reveal a little of what he already knew should it be necessary, and it now was. Plus it would make it easier to explain what he had to say later.

Leaning forward he addressed his fellow IOA members. "General O'Neill is quite correct, it is true there are people around that have abilities that defy many of the laws of physics as we currently understand them," he said. "Her majesties government has known about these individuals with abilities far beyond the norm for quite sometime now. We also know of groups of individuals that hunt down and either capture these individuals for study, force them to join a group or be killed, or just murder them because they consider them abominations worthy only of death."

The assembled ambassadors began shouting over each other as Raines' words began to filter through humanity had apparently begun to exhibit powers that had brought the attention of the Asgard. What was worse was that if they were so interested then it was inevitable that others with far less benevolent interests would get involved, like the Goa'uld. Though their power had been broken their were still a number of former System Lords still out there – Ba'al and his various clones being the best organised and dangerous – all would certainly try and capture these superhumans to use as new hosts should they learn of their existence. And that would pose an unacceptable risk to Earth's security.

"And it didn't occur to the British Government to let anyone else know about this," Ambassador Renard of France asked.

"Many of your governments already know about the existence of superhumans," Richard pointed out. "Especially elements of the intelligence services in both the United States and Russia, superhuman operatives were used extensively by both sides during the Cold War for sabotage and espionage purposes. Many other superhumans were unfortunately caught in the crossfire and were either killed or forced into service."

"How do you…" O'Neill started to say, stunned by the fact that the British Ambassador knew about the old Cold War programs. In his Special Forces days he had seen a number of the old programs – though nothing along the lines of superhuman operatives. Those programs were still supposed to be top secret.

"You'd be surprised how much we know about a number of the black projects embarked upon by both sides during the Cold War and even afterwards," Richard Raines replied with a smile. "Though I must admit that the Stargate Program came as a hell of a shock to us when we first found out about it, we haven't kept our own metahuman operative pool as well stocked as others. Instead we've let them choose their own paths in life as every person on this world has the right to do."

"Metahuman pool," Ambassador Li asked. "I'm not sure I understand that term."

"Metahumans, a quaint name given to superpowered individuals by the current generation of scientists and members of the actual group themselves. I believe it's based loosely on a term from DC comics. The term is used as a sort of a catch all for anyone with a power or ability above that of a normal human; for example General O'Neill and Atlantis Colonel Sheppard can be classed as metahumans because of their strong ATA genes. I must admit though I prefer it to the ugly, derogatory terms that have been used over the years. Mutant was quite a common one, along with freak, monster, abomination and so on."

"More comic book stuff," O'Neill said a little shocked that he could be slotted into the metahuman category because of his ATA gene. Though it made sense when you thought about it, considering how easily he could operate Ancient technology. "You're always going to get those kinds of people that will end up jealous or afraid of anyone who is in any way different," he continued.

"The possibility of lynch mobs or of any kind mass psychosis against metahumans has been at the forefront of many metahumans minds for sometime; as it's been said a person is smart but people are dumb," Richard said. "A witch hunt unlike any seen in centuries could tear apart whole countries where metahumans have been identified.

"For now we keep tabs on those metahumans we know about," he continued. "Ready to intervene if we need to be it to offer guidance or to deal with any that pose a threat to the public at large, some of these people have powers like gods and it can go their heads and when a metahuman goes rogue the damage they can do can be horrendous especially with some of the more dangerous powers. I'm also quite sure that there are those in your own countries that have the same information to hand."

"If this is true then I shall be quite unhappy when I return to Russia." Chekov said. "Not being told of these experiments means we may already have more information on these metahumans than already known. I think it may be our best interests to share what information we have on these people and those that are chasing them."

Hayes leaned forward. "I agree however it does seem our British friends know more about our own projects than we do," he said with a smile while inwardly he was frowning worried by the security implications. If the British knew so much about what went on behind the scenes then who else did? "If you would be so kind Lord Raines as to share your intel with us I'm sure it will be appreciated."

"I will have to talk to my government, I'm not authorised to tell you anything more than I have and considering its nature Imay be hardpressed to get them to releasethe information to me." Richard leant back on the couch. "One thing I can tell you is there are now more metahumans than ever before, the gene sequence that appears to the root of their powers is very widespread in the Human genome and becoming more and more dominant.

"We will have to bear the existence of metahumans in mind when we consider security for all IOA overseen projects, from the Stargate to the Daedalus class construction and anything else we don't want them to know about. There has already been one such glaring breach recently."

"The paintings of Atlantis and what happened on the _Odyssey _with Peter Petrelli, Hiro Nakamura and Ando Masahashi," O'Neill said. "Are they metahumans?"

"Peter Petrelli and Hiro Nakamura are yes," Richard confirmed. "Ando Masahashi is a normal human. It is about them that I also wish to speak."

"You have them don't you," Hayes said. Richard nodded.

"I was informed shortly before you summoned me here," Richard confirmed. "They appeared in London a few hours ago, to be specific we found them in Trafalgar Square where they were found by the organisation set up by her majesty and others to monitor metahumans in her domain and provide guidance and assistance where required."

"Trafalgar Square," Ambassador Li exclaimed in shock. "How on Earth did they get there? And what have you done with them?"

"You can thank Mr Nakamura for them appearing in Trafalgar Square," Richard replied. "He has a new and very unique ability in that he is able to with nothing but the force of his mind to manipulate the space-time continuum. Meaning he can do anything from teleporting through space – that particular kind of ability has been quite common throughout history – to freezing and slowing down time a power that to our knowledge has never been encountered before."

"And Mr Petrelli, he appeared to read Colonel Mitchell's mind, not to mention his invisible man trick," O'Neill asked.

"Mr Petrelli is a very rare kind of metahuman called an empathic mimic," Richard explains. "What it means is his power is that he can copy the powers of other metahumans and then use them whenever he wants to. Basically he's a Human sponge."

"So what powers does he have altogether," Ambassador Li asked. "And you haven't answered my question."

"I'm not sure what powers Peter Petrelli has altogether," Richard admitted. "I know he's telepathic, telekinetic and has invisibility but what others powers he has I do not know. Though he's done well to survive as long as he has, as his control of his powers is very tenuous at best, if they went out of control he would literally explode with three times the force of the nuclear bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

"As for what we've done with them, we did the one thing that SG-1 for all their skills failed so miserably to do when they encountered them in New York. We talked to them. We will be helping Mr Petrelli learn to properly control his abilities."

"There is still the matter of the security breach," Woolsey pointed out. "They know far too much for us to simply let them go as if nothing has happened. Plus if what you say about their abilities is true they could be useful against the Ori."

"They are not weapons, Mr Woolsey and they should not be treated as such," Richard reminded the ex-NID agent. "But we have considered the security breach and spoken to them about it."

"And," O'Neill prompted.

"They are willing to talk to members of this body about what they have seen and to sign non-disclosure agreements, providing they are left alone afterwards."

For a moment there was silence as everyone considered.

"I don't see a problem with that," Hayes said at last.

"Neither do I," Chekov added, Ambassador Li nodded in agreement with the Russian. Everyone turned and looked at Ambassador Renard and Woolsey.

"I still have some security concerns," Woolsey admitted. "But if this is the will of the majority then I vote yes we talk to them and get non-disclosure agreements signed."

"As do I," Ambassador Renard added.

"Then it's settled," Hayes said. "We will choose who to send to meet with them, Ambassador Raines if you would provide us with a date, time and location for the meeting then I see no problem with doing it your way."

"I will see to it, Mr President."

"Good. Now I believe there have been further developments in Atlantis that we need to be made aware of due to the Asgards arrival there," Hayes said. "General begin please."

"Yes, sir," O'Neil replied. Then – grinning like a fool – began to explain just what Thor and the Asgard would be doing to increase the protection of Atlantis and what they likewise proposed to do here.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Baal's Headquarters**

**A Few Hours Later**

Baal stood watching with quiet amazement as Issac Mendez slowly revealed another scene from the future. His prophetic minion's eyes were purest white as in his single minded trance-like state he painted an event that was yet to happen, a snapshot of the future. Hopefully this time it would be something he would be able to take advantage of, unlike the last painting about the arrival of an Asgard warship, a warship that was still in orbit now though why the Asgard ship was here Ba'al had no idea.

Finally Issac stopped his painting and took a step back, the white gleam vanished from his eyes and the gifted Human momentarily stumbled back before recovering. Looking around he was startled to find his lord and master in the room and bowed his head reverently.

"I'm sorry my lord I didn't see you there," he said. "Please forgive me."

"**It's quiet alright," **Baal replied, any irritation he'd felt when he'd first come in to talk to Issac Mendez had faded when he'd seen what the Human was doing. As it had been the last time it had been incredible to watch him paint the future. **"Show me what you have painted."**

"As my lord commands," Issac replied before gently turning the painting so his god could see clearly.

The painting was of a darkened room that Baal vaguely recognised as the place some of the minor Goa'uld in his service had taken Issac from. Issac was in the picture – his back to Baal with a zatnikatel in his right hand aimed at another Human who Baal could clearly see. This Human was slightly taller than Issac with dark hair and a few days worth of stubble on his face. He wore dark clothing and his very posture spoke of menace and hunger. The man had a look of confused shock on his face as if he didn't understand something that was happening or was to happen, something that Issac's somewhat selective gift had not revealed to them.

"**Very interesting,"** Baal said softly. **"Do you know who he is?"**

"I do my lord. The man you see in this picture is Sylar, the superpowered serial killer that I told you about."

Baal blinked slightly and looked closer at the painting. He clearly remembered what Issac had told him about Sylar, how he was one of two known superhumans with multiple powers, powers that were known to include a strong form of telekinesis. He had long since decided that Sylar or the other one with multiple powers, Peter Petrelli, would make an ideal new host.

"**Is there any indication of when this event will occur," **Baal asked hoping but not expecting an answer given what had happened the last time.

Issac hesitated before answering. "Anytime within the next four days my lord," he answered.

Baal raised on of his hosts eyebrows. **"How can you be sure,"** he queried remembering what Issac had said last time about the future revealing itself only reluctantly. A fact that was somewhat infuriating.

"Because my lord four days from now there will be a nuclear explosion that will destroy New York," Issac replied trying to ignore a headache that was starting to pound away inside his skull. "I was told the exact date and time of the explosion by another special a Japanese man called Hiro Nakamura."

"**Oh? And what can this Hiro Nakamura do?"**

"He has a very unique ability my lord. Hiro Nakamura has the power to manipulate the space-time continuum allowing him to teleport instantly to any location that he wishes at any point in space and time. A secondary facet of his ability is he is able to slow down or stop the passage of time altogether."

Baal's eyes widened slightly and a tingle ran down the spine of his host as his natural form shook with the shock of what he had just been told. Manipulating space-time to such a degree was an incredible and powerful ability; unfortunately he very much doubted he would be able to take advantage of it. Anyone with this kind of ability would be extremely difficult to capture even with the improvements Baal himself had made to the anti-Prior technology created by Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter.

"**How interesting,"** he said at last. **"What would this Sylar want with you?"**

"My gift my lord, the more unique an ability is the more Sylar wants it for himself."

"**Then we can take advantage of this."**

"If I may be so bold my lord, what do you plan to do?"

"**You will see it will require a great deal of work on your part."**

"My life is but to serve y…" Issac broke off and stiffened, closing his eyes as the pain in his head grew worse. An intense wave of sickness and pain rippled through his body and it was he could do not to scream or throw up with the pain.

Then with the same suddenness that it had come on the pain disappeared and Issac suddenly felt himself once again. As if who he had been mere moments ago had been forced upon him somehow, presumably by that green gas that he'd inhaled. In a whirlwind of recollection he remembered everything that he had said and done since then, convinced that Baal was his god by a force that had seemed to envelop his mind like a smothering blanket and shuddered a moment before his eyes flew open in fury.

"You," he snarled at Baal and leapt towards the one who had used him, twisted his mind and will to serve his own ends, bowling the startled ex-System Lord over before he had a chance to react. Baal landed with enough force that both host form and the natural snake-like Goa'uld form within were momentarily stunned by the impact, growling angrily Issac wrapped his hands around Baal's throat and started to throttle the life out of him.

Baal's eyes lit up with whitish gold light and he began to gag and struggle as he suddenly found himself unable to breath. Even with his extreme Goa'uld strength he was not able to break free of Issac's rage induced hold, he just didn't have enough leverage. His vision started to grey out and in desperation he brought his hand device up and fired straight into Issac's chest at point blank range. The blast of concussive force ripped the Human off him and lifted him bodily three feet into the air. Baal rolled away to the right and started to stand back up as Issac slammed back down with bone jarring impact that wrenched the air from his lungs and brought the sharp metallic taste of blood into his mouth as he bit his own tongue hard.

Baal got back to his feet and glared at Issac. **"I don't know how you broke the hold of the nishta, Human,"** he said. **"But you will pay for your insolence in attacking me."**

With an evil sneer on his face Baal activated his hand device again and sent a ribbon of golden energy drilling into Issac's skull. Issac screamed as he once again felt as though a billion white hot needles were drilling into his skull and setting his very synapses on fire. If anything the pain grew worse and the world began to fade, swept away in a tide of tremendous, burning agony that turned the whole world an intense blood red. The pain went on and on and on, never ceasing as Baal kept up his merciless assault.

Darkness started to envelop him and Issac gratefully gave himself up to it, the pain faded away and gave way to peaceful non-existence as his body surrendered to the effects of the hand device and died.

Baal deactivated his hand device as Issac slumped to the ground dead, subjected to an appropriate painful death for his insolence. A death that would not be permanent, if the Human thought death was going to be a release from his suffering he was sorely mistaken, he had other means besides nishta of bending the Human to his will. He was a god after all and gods were never without options.

Calmly Baal pressed a point on his hand device. The door opened and two of the minor Goa'uld controlled Trust operatives came into the room and bowed to their master. **"Place him in my sarcophagus,"** he ordered.

"**As you command, Lord Baal,"** the more senior of the two answered as they picked up the dead Human and half carried, half dragged him out of the room.

Baal watched them leave before turning his attention back to the painting of Issac and Sylar and looked lustfully at the superpowered serial killer. _Soon Sylar you will be mine,_ he thought.

* * *

**Atlantis**

**That Same Time**

Major Evan Lorne blinked as the Asgard transporter beam released him and Carson and they were faced with a sea of lights. Lights were on in every inhabited section of Atlantis, reflecting both off the softly rippling oceans surface and the sleek metal walls of the towers, the made the city look like something beautiful and precious.

"You know, Carson I've seen the city like this so many times yet it never ceases to take my breath away," Lorne said as he stretched his muscles, muscles that had cramped up during the tests Heimdall had done on him. Tests that had had him floating on a bed of light completely immobile while the sophisticated Asgard medical sensors probed his DNA right down to the sub-molecular level. That on top of the running he'd done on an Asgard device that was similar in principle to a treadmill had led to his muscles cramping up a bit.

"It is beautiful," Carson agreed as he watched his friend stretch a bit. "Though I've never really come out here when it's dark, I prefer to stay in my quarters at night."

"I've noticed that, is there any particular reason?" Evan asked.

"Not really," Carson admitted. "It's just something I've done for the last few years since my abilities manifested themselves. I used to go out to nightclubs, pubs and the like before that day seven years ago but since then…"

"You haven't," Evan finished.

"Nope, I don't mind the loud music. Growing up with six brothers and sisters I long ago got used to that kind of thing, hell I don't even mind people smoking its just it would get a bit to loud in other ways. Emotions tend to be magnified as people become more and more intoxicated and loose there inhibitions. When I'm tired that's the last thing I want to put up with, on top of that if I drink I tend to… ugh loose my control a bit."

Evan Lorne winced slightly at that. It was understandable that Carson would slowly loose control over his abilities as he became intoxicated, and the consequences of that didn't bear thinking about. He knew full well how strong and how devastating Carson's empathic telepathy could be to both himself and others. He wouldn't want to be in a bar when Carson's control started to slip and he started reading and influencing the emotions of everyone around him.

"Exactly," Carson said seeing Lorne wince. "I did once go to a pub just after my beloved Carolyn was killed. I tried to drown the grief and pain in alcohol for awhile, next thing I know everyone in the bar started feeling the same pain as me. I'm just lucky my brother twigged what was going on and got me out of their before I could start everyone crying. When I realised later what I'd been doing…."

"You felt awful about it."

"I did. I haven't touched alcohol since then not even at Christmas or New Year."

"I can understand that, I don't touch chocolate or high sugar foods for a similar reason," Evan admitted as he finished off stretching. "Don't get me wrong I like them like any sane person but…"

"But the sugar high you'd get has a nasty effect on you," Carson finished for him as they started walking towards the closest building, and the closest internal transporter. While Heimdall had offered to beam them straight to the central tower of the city they'd refused preferring to walk as Lantean evenings were generally pleasantly warm. Plus it just gave the two of them a chance to talk in private, a rare occurrence as they both had hectic lives here in Atlantis with their respective duties.

"Oh yeah, I literally get far too much energy to do anything but run as fast as I can for as long as possible," Evan replied. "Which means when I come down off the high I'm in such a state that I'm no good to anyone."

"Because you'll have pushed your body way past its normal limits," Carson said with a nod of understanding as they reached a building and went inside.

As they walked Lorne asked the question that had been on his mind on and off since they had first boarded Heimdall's ship. "Carson do you think, Heimdall is going to find the answer to the Asgards problems in our DNA?"

"I don't know," Carson admitted. "Heimdall is hopeful that it will be, but I'm not so sure. While it is true the Asgard once had a physical form similar to that of a Human there are a lot of genetic differences between our two species given that we've evolved on different planets in completely different galaxies and from completely different ancestors. I am not at all sure we're genetically compatible."

"There is that," Evan admitted, unlike a number of the other soldiers in Atlantis he knew quite a bit about science, especially genetics which he had a vested interest in for obvious reasons. While he had no formal qualifications in the scientific disciplines he understood enough to know Carson was right. "Still the Asgard knowledge of genetic science is much more advanced than ours, Carson. Maybe inter-species genetic compatibility isn't a problem for them."

"Possibly," the Scotsman agreed as they came to a lift/internal transporter station. The sensor read their approach and opened the doors automatically. "So where are you going now, Evan?"

"Well I don't know about you, Carson but I am a little hungry," Evan answered as they climbed in. "I think I'll go to the mess hall and grab a sandwich and a coffee before retiring for the evening."

"Sounds good," Carson replied with a smile before pressing the indicator for the transporter station just outside the mess hall, while bracing himself for the normal sharp jolt of emotions hitting his mental shields. The doors closed and the transporter activated instantly transporting them to the tall central tower of Atlantis.

The doors opened and they stepped out, in the process the emotions of everyone in the tower within his perceptive range slammed into Carson's mind like an insubstantial tsunami, and reflected off his mental shields as if off an insurmountable breakwater. After hours spent in the telepathic quiet of the _Daniel Jackson_ the sudden telepathic noise had an effect like a cold shower on hot skin. Carson gasped and stumbled from the sudden shock of it, shaking slightly before he adjusted to it.

Standing back up straight he saw his friend eying him in concern. "Are you okay, Carson," Evan asked

"I'm fine, Evan," Carson replied. "Sorry it was just a bit of a shock suddenly sensing everyone's emotions after a couple of hours of total telepathic silence."

"I imagine it would be a bit of a shock. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah I'm fine. Now lets go and have a bite to eat and a cup of coffee."

"Okay so long as you are sure," Evan said before walking towards the mess hall with Carson bringing up the rear.

* * *

**Heathrow International Airport**

**London, A Short Time Later**

Colonel Paul Davis was glad that the long flight from Washington to London Heathrow was over. Ambassador Raines had kept his word and provided a time and a place for himself and IOA representative Richard Woolsey to meet up with Peter Petrelli, Hiro Nakamura and Ando Masahashi about the security breach they had become involved in. They would be meeting them in just a couple of hours; it was already the early hours of Saturday morning on this side of the pond, though dawn was still a good three hours away.

With diplomatic security clearance they passed through the only lightly manned customs desk with ease, at this time of night Heathrow – by day the busiest airport on the planet – was almost completely dead. There was only a light staff on for the few planes that came in this late and the massive airports security staff. Davis found the silence of the airport downright eerie, though thankfully they would not be making their way through the silent cavernous spaces of the place for very long.

Escorted by airport security staff they soon found themselves at the front of terminal one where a car was waiting for them. It would take them from the silent airport through the village of Heathrow and into the sprawling, sleeping British capital city.

"How long till we get to our hotel," Davis asked the young Royal Marine who would be acting as their driver/guide while they were in the country.

"The roads are very quiet at this time of night, sir," Lieutenant Patrick Markwell answered. "We should get there in about half an hour."

"I see," Davis replied as Patrick started up the cars engines and began easing them away from terminal one.

He was looking forward to a nice long sleep prior to their crucial meeting with the two powerful metahumans Peter Petrelli and Hiro Nakamura and their normal friend Ando Masahashi. Inwardly he shook his head, he was still having a hard time getting his head around the idea of superpowered Humans existing on this planet, and apparently coming about through natural evolution and not genetic manipulation by a more technologically advanced species. He had heard and seen many strange and amazing things over the last few years – ever since he'd been made Pentagon liaison to Stargate Command – but in away this was the most amazing of them all.

Glancing over at Woolsey he could see that the IOA official was as tired as he was by the long flight over here – a flight during which they had both carefully read through a couple of files provided by Lord Richard Raines about metahumans. They had contained just enough information that they would have some familiarity with them.

"Is there a problem, Colonel," Woolsey asked noting how Davis was looking at him.

"No nothing," Davis replied as the car slipped out of the sprawling airport complex and onto the main road into London. "I was just thinking about those files we read on our flight over here. I cannot shake the feeling that it was barely scratching the surface of the information our British friends have on metahumans."

"That's because it was," Woolsey answered. "The information we were given was a basic primer on the subject that is all. Ambassador Raines admitted during our earlier meeting that he would not be able to give us access to more in depth and sensitive information. Frustrating as it is we have to respect that, and he did point out that there are probably some classified Cold War files in our own achieves on the subject."

Davis reluctantly nodded in agreement. "Your right," he said. "It just would have been nice to know more before we meet them tomorrow."

"You and me both, colonel," Woolsey replied. "You and me both."

* * *

**Baal's Headquarters**

**That Same Time**

Issac Mendez gasped as he opened his eyes at an abrupt return to consciousness. To find himself surrounded by a warm, white light, a light that seemed to infuse his being with a profound sense of peace and strength. _Am I dead,_ he wondered as he relaxed in the soothing light, _is this the afterlife._

Abruptly the light faded away to be replaced by translucent white walls and with a gasp he found himself in a box like chamber, with a closed lid only a handful of inches from his face. There was no room to move around and he began to panic as a strong feeling of claustrophobia began to make its presence felt. His breath began to come in quick ragged gasps as he began hyperventilating and sweat started to appear on his brow, he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears and he imagined he could feel the little air in the coffin-like chamber getting more and more tainted.

A line appeared in the roof of the chamber and a seam he hadn't seen began splitting open and he found himself looking up at a bare concrete ceiling. As soon as the opening was wide enough he sat up with a gasp, his whole body shaking with adrenaline and smelling of fear and panic.

"**Welcome back,"** a familiar, deeply distorted voice said and Issac turned his head to the left to find himself face to face with Baal. The Goa'uld was smiling at him cruelly, having left him in the sarcophagus a few moments longer than was strictly necessary as a demonstration of his power over life and death.

"**Take him to a cell," **Baal ordered to someone behind Issac, whose mind was still reeling at the terror he had just experienced. **"Prepare him for processing."** Baal leaned in closer to Issac. **"Soon Human you will serve me, and this time you will not be able to break my hold on you."**

"I will never serve you, not after what you did to me," Issac replied hotly and spat in Baal's eyes, even as two sets of incredibly strong arms grabbed him and pulled him to his feet. Baal calmly wiped away the spittle while smiling at the pointlessness of the defiant gesture.

"**Oh but you will, Human,"** Baal replied. **"Your soul is mine, and there will be no escape for you."**

"We'll see about that."

"**Indeed we shall, Human,"** Baal said as his two underlings bodily lifted Issac out of the sarcophagus and began half carrying, half dragging him away. **"Indeed we shall."**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

**London Hilton**

**Next Morning**

To say that Peter Petrelli was nervous as he was shown into conference room one of the London Hilton would have been an understatement of the highest order. It was all he could do to keep his composure and his powers in check, which wasn't easy when he felt like there were rattlesnakes performing a mating dance in his stomach. In another few minutes he would be meeting with the representatives of the IOA regarding the Stargate and he was nervous now than he had been while waiting to hear if he'd been accepted into medical school. _Calm down, Peter,_ he told himself softly but firmly. _You're a Petrelli and Petrelli's don't turn themselves into nervous wrecks, you can do this._

To distract himself he glanced over at Hiro and Ando, to see they looked as nervous as he felt about what was coming. Though they had been assured that everything would be alright none of them could shake the fear that they might be about to be kidnapped again so President Hayes and the International Oversight Authority could be certain of their silence. Though they would have to be very brazen indeed to do such a thing here even with the transporter beam technology on the _Odyssey_, a technology that according to Network sources came from some aliens called the Asgard.

Inwardly Peter shook his head. Alien technology, real life starships, the Stargate, real aliens some friendly some hostile it was all so incredible and almost made him feel like he was in The Twilight Zone. A few months ago he would have believed he was going crazy, but given what he could now do, what his brother and others could do he knew it was reality.

"They'll be here in a minute you should sit down," Claude Raines said from where he was walking beside them, and looking most uncomfortable dressed in a smart business suit. Claude would remain throughout the meeting, hidden from view but he would be here, a silent invisible witness to the proceedings.

Nervously the three of them did as Claude suggested sitting next to each other on one side of the table while they waited for the others to arrive. Claude for his part moved to the far corner of the room where he could keep an eye on what was happening, before seeming to ripple with optical distortion then vanishing into invisibility. Peter closed his eyes for a moment and took a few deep slow breaths in a medative exercise he had only just learned, using it to banish his nerves; making keeping his control over his powers easier and preventing himself from automatically mimicking Claude and doing the invisible man routine.

The sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention and he opened his eyes before looking at the door. A moment before three individuals came into the room, two of them in military uniform, the third in a black suit with a white shirt and black tie and carrying a simple leather briefcase. One of the two uniformed men wore the dress uniform of a US Air Force Lieutenant Colonel, the other in the dress uniform of a British Royal Marine. Peter guessed that he was probably their guide assigned directly by the British Premier to keep an eye on their visitors.

After a few moments another older man arrived, his presence seeming to surprise the two Americans. Peter studied him intently and blinked when he saw features that looked like an older, more angular version of Claude's. The man had a regal authority that seemed to mix with compassion and the air of someone who was a competent politician. There was no doubt in his mind that the man before him was Claude's father, Lord Richard Raines. _I still can't believe Claude is British Upper Class,_ Peter thought, _there is a world of difference between his manner and the manner of his father._

"Ambassador Raines," Colonel Davis said in disbelief. The ambassador hadn't been on the plane from the states with them so how could he be here now?

"Good morning, Colonel Davis, Mr Woolsey," Richard replied smiling at the looks of consternation on the faces of the two Americans. "I'm sorry to spring this surprise on you but the prime minister thought it best that I be present at this meeting."

"Good morning, ambassador," Woolsey answered. "But how can you…"

"Be here," Richard finished for him as he found a seat and settled down. "There are ways, Mr Woolsey."

"What kind of ways," Davis asked. "You didn't get the _Odyssey _to beam you here did you?"

"How could I, Colonel. You know as well as I that the _Odyssey_ left orbit yesterday afternoon."

"Then how?"

"You can thank me for that," a new voice said. Turning to look everyone saw a boy in his late teens leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets and a cheeky grin on his face.

"Julian you we're supposed to say outside," Richard said softly to the young man.

"I know but it's boring out there," Julian replied with a smile. "Coming in here seemed like it was going to be much more fun."

"You can't stay here, Julian. Now hop it," Richard said. "Go to Alton Towers or something for a few hours, I'll give your mobile a buzz when we're finished."

"But…"

"Go now and I'll forget you dropped in against orders," Richard answered reasonably. "But if you continue to persist in this then I will have to inform Mrs Hamilton-Ward of your behaviour."

Julian winced slightly. "Okay, okay I'm going," he said before vanishing with a burst of displaced air and leaving what looked to be a fracture in the air where he had been standing. It caught the light oddly and seemed to shimmer slightly, before fading away as if it had never been present at all.

"What the hell?" Davis said staring at where Julian had been a second before. "Who was that?"

"Julian Whitehurst," Richard answered. "His abilities are similar to Mr Nakamura here."

"He bends space-time," Hiro asked speaking for the first time.

"No not the way you do, Mr Nakamura," Richard replied. "Whereas you can teleport yourself and others to any point in space and time that you wish Julian can only teleport through space."

"One of those teleporters you mentioned," Woolsey said, recalling some of the things Richard Raines had said when he'd revealed the existence of metahumans to the rest of the IOA. And in the process given the president a heart attack about the fact that the British knew so much about US black projects both previous and current.

"Yes he is," Richard answered. "He was seven when we found him and took him in off the streets, where he'd been living rough we don't know what happened to his parents they we're never found despite an extensive search. Aside for a typical teenage attitude problem Julian is a good kid.

"But enough about Julian, we should get down to the matter that has brought us all here," Richard continued before noticing that the door was still open. "Will someone shut the door please?"

Peter smiled from where he had been listening quietly before reaching into his mental filing cabinet and pulling out the telekinetic file card. Before with a flick of his fingers closing the door and turning the switch on the conference room side that controlled the lock.

"There you go," he said putting the mental file card back in its insubstantial, cerebral storage cabinet. Richard Raines, Mr Woolsey and Colonel Davis stared at the closed, locked doors in surprise for a moment. It was different seeing Peter Petrelli's telekinetic abilities in the flesh to seeing them on the _Odyssey's_ security tapes, the ease with which he'd done that was to Richard a sign of just how gifted the American empathic mimic really was.

"Thank you, Mr Petrelli," he said.

"You're welcome," Peter replied. "And please call me Peter I hate being called Mr Petrelli all the time, makes me feel like my dad."

"Alright then, Peter," Colonel Davis answered before looking at Hiro and Ando sitting quietly next to Peter. "What should we call you gentlemen," he asked.

"Call us by our first names it's easier," Ando replied politely hiding his nerves at this meeting. He was well aware that a lot depended on this meeting going right, like their continued freedom to continue with their mission to save the world. Though it increasingly looked like New York wasn't about to suffer the same fate that Hiroshima and Nagasaki had endured back in the last century there was still the psychotic menace of Sylar to consider.

"Very well then," Davis said. "Shall we get started then gentlemen?"

One by one everyone nodded in agreement. Davis took a deep breath and let it out slowly while mentally crossing his fingers that this went right.

"The three of you have become aware of something that is vitally important to the safety and security of this planet," Davis continued. "The public is not yet ready to learn of the existence of the Stargate Program, let alone how close this planet has come to destruction on numerous occasions."

"If the world isn't ready then why open the Stargate in the first place," Peter asked. "And why should the rest of the world be kept in the dark about the US Air Force risking the lives of six billion people without ever having the decency to ask first."

"That matter has been hotly debated in the IOA a number of times, Peter," Richard answered. "And the answer is simple, as sensible as it would be to close the gate it is too late for that as much as we might wish otherwise."

"We're known now," Davis added. "The Goa'uld, Ori, Wraith and all the other alien races now know of our existence and will stop at nothing to enslave us or destroy us. If we had known the dangers when the Stargate was first opened eleven years ago then it would not have been opened. It would have remained the mystery object that it had been since its discovery in the 1920's."

"The genie is out of the bottle and cannot be put back now," Ando said.

"Exactly, even if we buried the gate now we would not be safe. Alien warships would be over this planet demanding our surrender or they'd glass the planet and enslave survivors in short order now."

"Hence the existence of the _Odyssey,_" Peter asked.

"Yes. The _Odyssey_ and her sister ships are hyperspace capable warships designed to protect Earth from harm."

"If the galaxy is so dangerous then why not reveal this secret to the world," Ando asked. "Surely the resources of the entire planet would be better than the resources of just five nations."

"It would be and a number of other nations now know about the Stargate and take part quietly in some operations. But if the public in general knew it would cause panic and hysteria given how aliens have been portrayed in the media. It's a bit like how the world is not yet ready to learn of the existence of metahumans like yourself Peter and Hiro," Richard answered the smiled.

"Though that's not going to stay secret for much longer," he admitted. "There are more metahumans with each generation now."

"What do you want from us," Peter asked.

"As we agreed earlier with our British friends," Woolsey said giving Richard another irritated look, he was still not happy about how the British had made an offer to Peter, Hiro and Ando without even telling the IOA that they were going to do it. "The IOA is willing to ignore what happened aboard the _Odyssey_ and with SG-1 in New York in exchange for a formal agreement from the three of you to keep quiet about what you know."

"That is all well and good," Peter said. "But there is something we want from you as well."

"And that is," Davis asked.

"The promise that you will not try and use us and our abilities for your own purposes," Peter answered. "Given the US Governments history of kidnapping people like me and Hiro for use in black projects I would think it's a reasonable request."

"It is and one we readily agree to," Davis answered. "You are still Human beings and have the same God given rights to live freely as anyone else."

"There is one favour that we would ask you though," Woolsey said.

"And what is that, Mr Woolsey," Peter asked fixing the older man with the patented probing Petrelli look.

"There is a ship belonging to an alien ally of ours orbiting this planet as week speak," Woolsey said. "The Asgard would like samples of your DNA."

"Why?"

"Because the Asgard are a dying race, and they are the only thing that has kept us planet from being reduced to a ball of molten rock long ago. Allow me to explain."

Peter, Hiro, Ando and the invisible but quietly listening Claude listened in astonishment as Woolsey briefly outlined the Protected Planets Treaty and the Asgard role as enforcer. Woolsey explained how the Asgard race had come to be in slow but terminal decline due to errors made in the past and now were only just clinging onto life through clones, and how the clones were now failing them. Finally he outlined how the Asgard believed that metahuman genes could hold the answer to their genetic puzzle.

When he was done the three of them sat quiet. Ando and Hiro had openly incredulous expressions on their faces, Peter however looked thoughtful. As part of his nursing qualification he'd done a short course on genetics, though it had mostly focused on genetic flaws and how they could cause illness and disease it had given him a reasonable understanding of the subject. Enough that he was very doubtful that it would be possible to transplant Human genes into a completely separate species.

"I have to say I find that hard to believe," he said at last. "Human genetics are bound to be very different to that of a completely alien species from a completely different galaxy, I'm no geneticist but I doubt it would work."

"The Asgard are very skilled at genetic engineering, Peter," Colonel Davis answered. "They believe it will work, though they have to work from scratch where metahuman genetics are concerned."

Peter frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe it would help if they had the assistance of someone who knows what to look for in our kind's genetics," he said. "There's a scientist I know in New York whose carrying out research into how our powers work and where they come from, determined to finish his fathers work."

"You're talking about Doctor Mohinder Suresh," Richard said with a smile. "I know of him, I would have suggested that we contact him but we have no contact details for him. The only details I know of for Mohinder Suresh are for his home in India and he's not been there in nearly two months."

"Fortunately I know how you can contact him," Peter answered with a smile. "I know the address where he's staying in New York."

"Could you give it to us," Woolsey asked.

"I can," Peter replied. "But I want your word you're not going to kidnap him as Colonel Mitchell tried to do with me, Hiro and Ando."

"That incident will not be repeated," Davis assured him. Peter looked at him intently and contemplated reading his mind to determine if he was telling the truth, but decided against it. Trust had to start somewhere with these people.

"Alright," Peter said. "I'll give you the details. Now I believe you want us to sign some forms?"

"Indeed," Woolsey replied opening the briefcase he had brought in and taking out a set of different forms for them to sign along with some pens. Calmly he passed them over the table. "Please read them thoroughly and sign at the bottom," he added.

Peter nodded and picked up his form and started reading through it. To his left and right Hiro and Ando began doing the same thing. Silently Woolsey, Davis and Richard Raines leaned back in their seats to wait for them to get through the lengthy, wordy documentation that would spell out there agreement to keeping knowledge of the Stargate Program and everything that came with it a secret.

An agreement that would end at least one part of the massive breach in SGC and IOA security.

* * *

**Baal's Headquarters**

**A Short Time Later**

Baal smiled as Issac Mendez stood silently in front of him, his face expressionless. The processing had taken on him; he had been a bit concerned that it wouldn't. That the same inexplicable mechanism that had let the Human overcome the effects of the nishta organism would make him immune to the effects of the technology. It was a pleasant surprise to find that that was not the case, still Baal vowed to keep an eye on Issac. The nishta had worked for awhile only for its effects to be mysteriously shrugged off; he could only suspect that it was due to some factor of Issac power to paint the future.

Putting side his doubts Baal carefully studied his new minion before speaking. **"Who do you serve, Human,"** he asked.

"I serve you my lord," Issac replied his tone a mixture of awe, fear and respect, as it should be for someone who was facing their God. It pleased Baal greatly; it was rare these days that he got the reference and respect that was his due. The minor Goa'uld infesting The Trust didn't count, they only obeyed him out of fear and because they saw him as the only chance they had of keeping any power at all. An impression that he had to do little to reinforce, as they all knew that if the Tau'ri found them it would mean at best removal from their hosts and at worst death.

"My lord," Issac continued looking down at the floor. "I would like to apologise for my earlier actions, I was unenlightened and I am deeply sorry for my actions."

"**It is quite alright," **Baal replied. **"I've saved your soul from that darkness and brought you into the light that is my domain."**

"And I will be forever grateful my lord," Issac answered going down to one knee, bowing down before his God.

"**Rise,"** Baal instructed and inwardly smiled as Issac scrambled to obey him. _Why didn't I have him properly processed the first time,_ he thought, _he's so much better now that he was before._ **"I have a task for you, Mr Mendez, a task for which you with your unique gift are well suited."**

"My life is but to serve you my lord. What do you wish of me?"

Baal gave a small evil smile and began outlying exactly what he wanted his newest minion to do for him. A task that if he successfully carried it out would take Baal one step closer to his goal of absolute power and the restoration of Goa'uld supremacy not just in this galaxy but possibly beyond it as well. If he – to borrow a Tau'ri phrase – played his cards right then he Baal could become the architect of a Goa'uld Empire greater in size and scope than even Ra's greatest dreams.

It took him nearly ten minutes to fully outline the task he had in mind for Issac to carry out. And through it all the precognitive painter listened and considered how he could execute his Gods will. The task would be dangerous and could well lead him into conflict with The Company as well as giving Sylar a lure the power stealing serial killer couldn't ignore. But it was his gods will and thus it had to be carried out, as long as he trusted in Baal he knew he would not go wrong. And if he died in Baal's service then at least he would die with the knowledge that he would be greatly honoured in the afterlife.

"**Do you understand,"** Baal asked.

"I do my lord. It will be a difficult and dangerous task but your will shall be done."

Baal smiled pleased. **"Indeed," **he said. **"Report to the armoury, the equipment you need for your task will be provided to you there. Then go to the front entrance for transport, your task begins now, Mr Mendez."**

"As my lord commands," Issac replied with a deep, respectful bow to his master. Straightening up he turned and walked out of the throne room, leaving Baal alone save for the flickering glow of the oil burners so beloved by the Goa'uld.

Baal smiled and leaned back on his throne. _Soon,_ he thought, _soon I will be invincible and no one will be able to stop me. Not the Tau'ri, not the Ori, not even the mighty Asgard. This world and this galaxy will be mine._

* * *

**London Hilton**

**That Same Time**

Peter Petrelli sighed in relief and relaxed as the meeting with the IOA representatives finally came to an end. It had been the meeting that like many other events in these last few months had shaken his world to the core. Especially the revelation that the Asgard – a race whose technology was so powerful that they were nearly invincible – needed there help. He didn't know if his adaptive DNA would be of any use to the little grey-skinned aliens but he was inclined to let them have a sample, though he would have to think about it some more.

Peter remained sitting as Mr Woolsey and Colonel Davis were led out of the room by their Royal Marine guard – a guard whose name he still did not know. Ambassador Lord Richard Raines also watched them leave; he would catch up with them later once they had had a chance to rest up a bit. As soon as they were out of earshot, Richard relaxed.

"Okay, Claude you can come out now," he said startling Peter, Hiro and Ando that he knew Claude was here.

"How did you know I was here, dad," Claude asked materialising as if from thin air at the other end of the room.

"I have my means as you well know," Richard replied. "Or have you forgotten how your invisible man trick never worked for long with me."

"I haven't forgotten," Claude answered though truth be told he had. Quite how his father always knew he was in a room invisible or not had always been a puzzle to him as as far as he knew his father didn't have any powers. Though until recently they hadn't seen each other in over twenty years and a conversation about superpowers had never really come up before he'd left home as a hot headed twenty year old. It was therefore entirely possible that Richard Raines also had a special ability, albeit one that was very well hidden.

"You had," Richard replied chuckling.

"So what now," Claude asked. "I suppose you want me to sign one of those forms as well."

"No I've known you were here all along, had I intended for Woolsey and Davis to know about you I would have called you on your presence in the meeting,"

"You didn't want them to know, why?" Peter asked.

"Insurance, Peter," Richard replied. "Something to hold at their throats later if Woolsey tries to persuade the IOA to overrule the decision I pushed through. Given the threats out there – especially the Priors of Ori – Woolsey has already suggested once that your abilities would be a useful counter weapon."

Peter scowled. "I wont let anyone use me like that," he said.

"I know and I persuaded most of the IOA to see things my way in that you and Hiro are individuals with the right to choose your own destiny, not be used by someone else for the 'greater good.'"

"Sounds like nothings changed in the US intelligence community camp," Claude said in disgust. "They and the Russians were forever kidnapping our kind and pressing us into service during the Cold War."

"Things are getting better, Claude but Woolsey's knee jerk suggestion shows there is still someway to go," Richard answered. "But as I said I've persuaded the IOA otherwise and hopefully Woolsey and his former NID colleagues will keep their word about honouring the majority decision."

"I hope so," Peter replied. "What about these, Asgard is their situation as desperate as Mr Woolsey implied?"

"Probably even more so," Richard answered. "The Asgard have gone so far as provide a planetary defence network in exchange for assistance. That alone is an indication of how desperate their situation is and if the Asgard go then so does the biggest force for good in the known universe."

"Is our DNA really the answer," Peter asked.

"I don't know," Richard admitted. "The Asgard seem to think it is though I'm going to reserve judgement on that front for now."

Peter nodded. "I understand. So - at the risk of echoing, Claude - what now?"

"Now," Richard said standing up. "Now you go back to Network HQ and rest up for a bit. I will probably see you all later before I get Julian to teleport me back to the consulate in Washington. In the meantime I have an appointment with the Prime Minister so please excuse me."

With that Richard Raines turned and left the room himself, leaving the three metahumans and one ordinary man alone in the conference room. For a few moments silence reigned, all four lost in their own thoughts, quietly mulling over the meeting, its aftermath and the implications of both.

Finally Claude broke the silence. "We should move ourselves," he said. "If we leave now then we should get back to HQ in time for lunch, and I don't know about the three of you but I'm starving."

Peter laughed. "Food does sound like a good idea," he said getting up. Hiro and Ando nodded in agreement and got up themselves.

"Then let's go shall we," Claude said with a grin before walking out. Peter smiled and followed the real life invisible man out of the room with Hiro and Ando following a few paces behind them.

As he walked Peter thought about the meeting some more. Somehow he suspected that it was only the first of many to follow. He suspected that he and Stargate Command were going to meet again, when he didn't know but he knew they would as surely as he knew he was breathing. _Hopefully they wont want to see me again until after I'm fully in control of my abilities,_ he thought.

But somehow he doubted that they would wait that long. Something was coming; a storm was building on the horizon. He could feel it, what it was he didn't know. But he knew it was coming.

All he could do was hope that they were all ready for it when it broke.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty One**

**Issac Mendez's Studio **

**New York, A Short Time Later**

Issac Mendez scowled as he looked around at the mess that his studio had become; nothing was where it was supposed to be. In fact it looked like it had been moved as though someone was searching for something or someone. _Probably those misguided fools from Stargate Command,_ he thought thinking about his masters foes. _They must have come here to find out how I know about Atlantis. Good thing Lord Ba'al found me first and has shown me his light, I hate to think how those blasphemous devils would have treated me._

After a moment he sighed and looked around again. His assignment from Lord Ba'al was two fold, both parts would be dangerous though the second part would be the worst. For it would be the part that could claim his life if his gods plan failed as he would be face to face with Sylar himself, compared to that the first part would be easy.

Wandering through the studio he searched for his phone silently cursing at the mess. _As soon as I've made this phone call I am going to tidy this place up,_ he thought in annoyance. Though he had never been a neat freak he still couldn't tolerate a complete and total mess, especially in his studio, though he doubted he would spend much time here anymore. He had far more important things to do now than paint and drawer for comics and galleries, they were nothing compared to the feeling of rightness engendered by serving Lord Ba'al.

After a couple of minutes of searching he found what he was looking for. Picking up the phone he was relieved to see that it still had some power, but then again it was a Nokia, and in his experience Nokia mobile phones could hold power for enormous periods of time. Scrolling through his contacts he found the one he wanted and pressed the green call button before bringing the phone to his ear and waiting.

Finally he was answered. "Hello," Thompson's voice said.

"Hello, Mr Thompson, what happened to Bennett," Issac answered.

"Issac? Issac Mendez? Where the hell have you been?" Thompson demanded. "I've been trying to get hold of you for days. Oh and as for Bennett he no longer works for The Company."

"I see. I'm sorry that I haven't been in contact there has been some problems, listen I need to see you. I've painted Sylar."

For a moment there was silence. "Where is he," Thompson asked.

"From the look of it he's here in New York," Issac answered.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Thompson promised. "Be careful, Issac if Sylar is in New York then you're life could be in grave danger."

"I know I remember Hiro telling me how he found me dead in the future," Issac replied. "I'll be careful."

"See that you are, you are very important to the Company Mendez, we cannot afford to loose you."

"I understand."

"Oh and if you happen to paint Bennett then inform me immediately."

"Don't worry, Mr Thompson I'll do just that,"

"Good. I will see you in a few hours; in the meantime watch your back."

"I will goodbye Mr Thompson. See you soon."

"Goodbye, Mendez," Thompson answered. Issac removed the phone from his ear and closed the line, before putting the phone in his pocket. _Excellent,_ Issac thought, _my Lords plan advances nicely. Lord Ba'al will be very pleased with me when I deliver him, Thompson._

With a smile on his face at the prospect of praise and a reward from his god Issac moved across the debris strewn floor of his studio heading for his closet. It was time to get out the dustpan and brush and start giving this place a much needed clean up.

**

* * *

**

Atlantis

**That Same Time**

Whistling a tune to himself Major Evan Lorne made his way into the mess hall in search of breakfast, something that he rarely missed at all these days. Regular meals were one of the best things about being stationed in Atlantis in his opinion, certainly it was a lot better than when he had been with Stargate Command and often been stuck off world for days at a time with nothing to eat but MRE rations and power bars. _We get so spoiled out here,_ he thought as he picked up a tray and joined the queue of base personnel waiting to get to where the cooks were serving up breakfast.

As he waited for his turn he glanced around the mess hall, seeing who was here at this time in the morning. Bright morning sunshine was streaming in through the crystal windows, flooding the mess hall with light; though this early there were few people around. On one table the spotted Colonel Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon sharing breakfast while at another Rodney McKay and Radek Zelenka looked like they were having a bit of a debate over breakfast. _Nothing new there then,_ he thought with a smile seeing the Canadian and the Czech at it again, for all that they bitched at each other Rodney and Radek were the best of friends, as you would quickly find out if you challenged one of them when the other was in earshot.

Turning his attention away from Rodney and Radek he continued scanning the mess hall and immediately noticed Carson Beckett sitting alone only partially focused on his breakfast. The rest of his attention was being captured by something that was displayed on a computer tablet that he'd obviously brought in with him. _I wonder what's captured his attention this morning,_ he thought with a mental shrug a second before he reached the serving area.

"Good morning, Major," one of the people serving asked. "What would you like?"

Evan scanned what was on offer this morning and made his choice. "Ah I would like two bacon, sausage, hash brown and plump tomatoes," he replied.

"Not a problem," the cook answered and started to plate up his request. As the cook did that out the corner of his eyes Evan noticed Doctor Weir coming into the room, maybe it was some strange sixth sense that made him turn his head more to look at her. Strangely Elizabeth didn't look well right, as though something was wrong with her this morning. She looked oddly uncomfortable and from experience with Carson he could see the tell tale signs of someone who had a headache. _Maybe she's got a migraine coming,_ he thought before turning his attention back to the cook and accepting his plate of steaming hot food.

"Thank you," he said putting the plate on his tray and moving over to where drinks were waiting. As he sorted out a coffee for himself he watched Dr Weir out of the corner of his eye as she joined the breakfast cue. Something was definitely not right with her this morning and Evan made a mental note to speak to Carson about it.

After finishing off making coffee he picked up his tray, got his knife, fork and a pair of sachets one of salt the other of brown sauce and made his way across the mess hall to where Carson was sitting. "Mind if I join you, Carson," he asked and almost chuckled when the Scot seemed to jump.

"Damn, Evan what are you trying to do give me a heart attack," Carson asked looking up at his friend and grinning. "Sure sit down."

"You seemed pretty intent there," Evan commented as he settled down opposite Carson.

"I was just going over some of the data Heimdall showed us yesterday on the problems the Asgard are having with their clones," Carson answered. "After running it through the cities database I've found the problem, the reason the clones are lasting less time with each replication is the cells are dying faster than they can be replaced."

"That was quick," Evan commented as he opened the salt packet and sprinkled it over his food.

"It helps to have access to Atlantis medical database," Carson replied with a grin. "The Ancients were nothing if not experts at genetic manipulation, with that in mind I've figured out exactly what needs to be done to make clones viable for longer; long enough for a more permanent solution to be devised. The Asgard needs something that will repair damaged cells before they can die off or instantly replace them if they do die."

"I'm no expert on these things, Carson," Evan answered. "But wouldn't some aspects of Wraith DNA do it? There ability to heal from almost any injury sounds just like what the Asgard need."

"Unfortunately that comes from the Iratus bug DNA elements and from analysis done of Wraith DNA is linked to the part of their genetic structure that requires them to steal life force from other beings."

"The Asgard would never go for something like that then."

"Nope but maybe…" Carson's voice trailed off and the Scottish metahuman frowned thoughtfully. "That might do it unfortunately its one of the rarest metahuman abilities about."

"What is it," Evan asked curious. He was always intense interested in their abilities of their kind, whether they were physical abilities like his super speed or mental abilities like Carson's empathic telepathy.

Carson was about to answer when a sudden commotion caught both of their attention, looking over they both saw that Elizabeth Weir had dropped her breakfast tray on the floor, and was clutching at the sides of her head, features contorted in pain. Carson started to get up to go to her assistance, even as everyone else in the mess hall started to get up themselves, John Sheppard foremost amongst them.

That was when Elizabeth screamed, a hail pitched wail of pain that was more than just a verbal cry. Simultaneously everyone heard it not just with their ears but inside their heads as well. In that same instant Elizabeth's eyes rolled backwards in her head and she collapsed to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Carson was halfway to her just as she hit the deck and quickly toggled his ear piece. "This is Doctor Beckett I need a medical team in the mess hall immediately," he said.

"On our way, doctor," the nurse on duty answered just as Carson reached Elizabeth's side and began doing his best to access her condition even as a concerned murmuring began to make its way through the mess hall. Unlike everyone else here he knew precisely what had just happened to Elizabeth, her dormant metahuman abilities had manifested themselves and to top it off they were telepathic in nature as evidenced by the mental wail of distress. _Telepath I should have guessed, Elizabeth would end up with an ability like my beloved Carolyn, _he thought, _it suits her._

"How is she doc," Colonel Sheppard abruptly asked from behind him and Carson could feel the waves of concern coming off him almost as if they were physical objects. They rebounded off his mental shields like ocean waves rebounding off a solid rock wall.

"I can't be sure until I get her to the infirmary," he answered while continuing to check Elizabeth over.

"What happened," Teyla asked. "I heard her scream in my head."

"So did I," Ronon added.

"Everyone in here probably did," Carson answered. "But now is not the time for explanations."

Sheppard scowled and was tempted to demand one anyway but after thinking about it for a moment decided against it. He knew from past experience that he would either be ignored by the Scotsman or worse get a sharp, acid laced comment back that rivalled any of a Rodney's barbed comments. So he said nothing but only watched and worried as Carson carefully checked Elizabeth's vitals as much as he could without access to medical equipment. _Where the hell is the medical team,_ he thought.

As if in answer five members of the expeditions medical personnel – the still settling in Doctor Jennifer Keller in the lead – came into the room on a run. Reluctantly Sheppard took a few steps back as they made a beeline straight to Carson and the cities CMO began issuing instructions; instructions that quickly had the nurses assembling a portable stretcher from their backpacks while Jennifer knelt down and helped Carson as much as she was able to.

In no time at all they were transferring Elizabeth onto the stretcher and carrying her out of the room the eyes of everyone in the room following them as they left. Sheppard started to follow only for Lorne to step into his path.

"It wouldn't be a good idea to go after them right now, sir," Evan said. Sheppard ignored him and slipped past him, or tried to as seemingly faster than he could blink Lorne was back in front of him again.

"Get out of my way, Lorne," Sheppard growled glaring at his super speeding second in command.

"You can't help, Elizabeth now, sir," Evan said reasonably. "If you go to the infirmary now you would only be getting in the way of, Carson and the medical team. He'll only end up throwing you out."

"Lorne's right, John," Rodney added making Sheppard jump slightly as he hadn't realised that the Canadian genius had come up to join them.

"Fine, fine," Sheppard growled reluctantly giving in. "What the hell happened to her?"

"My guess is she just manifested a special ability," Evan answered. "You would have to speak to, Carson to be sure but I suspect that its telepathy going on the mental scream everyone heard."

"Telepathy," Sheppard repeated then his eyes widened as the realisation of what meant dawned on him, banishing his concern for a moment in a wave of sheer disbelief. "You mean..."

"Elizabeth is a metahuman like me and Carson, yes," Evan finished for him then shook his head. "I wondered if she was going to be one of the others."

"The others?"

"Remember, Carson mentioned in our last staff meeting before the Asgard decided to grace us with their presence that there are a number of dormant metahumans here in Atlantis," Rodney reminded him. "Elizabeth is obviously one of them, though equally obviously not so dormant anymore."

"I remember," Sheppard admitted then sighed. "But why now?"

Lorne shrugged. "That's the six billion dollar question that can never be answered," he said. "No one ever knows what causes our abilities to spontaneously activate just that it happens. Sometimes puberty can be a factor like what happened with my speed but other times like now it just comes like a bolt out of the blue."

"But why would, Elizabeth scream like that," Teyla wondered.

"If as I suspect, Elizabeth is telepathic then she'd have suddenly been bombarded by the thoughts of everyone around her within perception range," Evan answered. "From what I understand from, Carson full scale telepathy manifests as voices in someone's head, only those voices are thoughts. Suddenly hearing them for the first time would be one hell of a shock to the system."

"I think I understand," Teyla said thinking back to the first time she had first felt the Wraith coming, back on Athos when she'd been a child, the day the Wraith took her mother. The first time she had sensed that deep cold inside it had been terrifying and made her cry out in fear, she could only imagine how much more surprising and disturbing it would be to suddenly 'hear' the thoughts of everyone around you.

"Still doesn't explain why she collapsed," Ronon said.

"Actually it makes sense," Rodney countered. "It would be like a deaf person suddenly hearing a jet engine screaming at full power. The shock of that alone would be enough to cause pain and unconsciousness."

"This is all supposition," Sheppard pointed out calming down slightly though still desperately worried about the woman who was both his friend and his boss. "Though I will admit it makes sense. But what can we do about it?"

"Nothing, sir," Lorne answered. "If Doctor Weir is telepathic then the only one in this whole galaxy who will be able to help her would be, Carson. Granted his telepathic abilities are limited to a more empathic level but he should still be able to help her gain some control over her ability. Certainly he'd be able to help her shield her mind.

"In the meantime I would suggest that the rest of us return to our breakfasts," he continued. "We can see how Doctor Weir is afterwards. Assuming, Carson will let us get anywhere near her."

"Always assuming that," Sheppard agreed before glancing around at the rest of the mess hall and noticed for the first time that everyone had been listening to their conversation. "Okay folk's shows over, get back to whatever it was you were doing."

To reinforce the order he started to walk back to the table he had been sharing with Teyla and Ronon. Conversations resumed among everyone in the mess hall, though the subject had predictably changed to Doctor Weir apparently manifesting powers. As he slid into his seat John Sheppard thought about what had just happened, running it over and over in his mind. The more he thought about it and what Lorne had said the more it made sense that Elizabeth's telepathic abilities had suddenly, inexplicably turned themselves on. It didn't stop him worrying though, worrying about Elizabeth Weir and what this could mean for both her and the rest of the Atlantis Expedition.

* * *

**Mohinder Suresh Apartment**

**New York, Sometime Later**

Doctor Mohinder Suresh groaned as consciousness returned, his groan turned into a gasp of pain as he felt the bruises and cuts his body had sustained. Slowly he opened his eyes to find himself lying on the floor of his apartment, lying surrounded by a small pool of dried blood. Blood that he somehow knew to be his own.

For a few moments he lay there in confusion wondering just what had happened to him. Then he remembered, remembered how 'Zane Taylor' had really turned out to be Gabriel Grey a.k.a Sylar. How he had briefly disabled the super powered serial killer, only for Sylar to break free and directly attack him with his telekinetic abilities. He remembered being pinned to the ceiling by the monster in Human form, passing out from the shock and that was all.

_Why aren't I dead,_ he thought awkwardly sitting up and almost falling over as a wave of dizziness rippled through his head, _why hasn't Sylar killed me?_ Ignoring the dizziness as much as he could Mohinder fought to get his feet under him and stand up. It took several minutes but eventually he managed to do it.

Looking around he noticed two things immediately, one that the door to his apartment was open. And two that the external hard drive that had been attached to his computer and had contained the list of identified individuals with powers, and the computer program to find more, had gone. In its place was a slip of paper.

Moving over Mohinder picked it up and saw that it was a note:-

_Mohinder_

_I'm sure you're wondering why you're still alive, well contrary to your opinions I'm not a heartless monster. You're no threat to me so I have nothing to gain by killing you, plus you have been a great help. Your work is going to help me to for fill my imperative – so call me sparing you a thank you._

_But I warn you don't get in my way, don't try and stop me. If you do then you will join your father in the ground._

_Sylar_

Mohinder stared at the note in his hands, horror and guilt welling up inside of him. With that hard drive Sylar now had the means to find more victims, more people to kill so he could steal their powers. And it was all his fault, their blood would be on his hands as much as it would be on Sylars own. _What have I done,_ he thought slowly dropping to his knees, _oh dear God WHAT HAVE I DONE?_

* * *

**Elsewhere In New York**

Sylar grinned hungrily as he made his way towards the studio of Issac Mendez, he wasn't the first person on the list that he had gotten from the good Doctor Suresh but he was the closest and easiest to get to. In a few more moments Issac's apparent ability to paint the future would be his, and after that he would go after the other New York native on the list, congressional candidate Nathan Petrelli a man who could apparently had the power of self propelled flight.

The mere thought of that ability made him hungry for it. He'd always wanted to fly and he couldn't wait to try out that particular power. But he forced himself to focus on Issac first; the painter was closer and was nowhere near as well guarded as the congressional candidate would be. Taking Nathan Petrelli's power would require careful planning, but he was patient and would stalk that particular prey for as long as was needed as long as he got what he wanted in the end.

After a moment he came to the studio, the door was partially open and he could see lights glowing from inside. _Good he's home,_ he thought as he stealthily slipped inside. It only took him a moment to find his prey.

Issac Mendez had his back to him and was blissfully unaware of his presence, indeed he seemed to be lost in some kind of trance. He was painting frantically, pulling in a scene of an event that was yet to happen. Sylar stood back and watched in fascination his own core ability to understand how something worked coming to the fore.

After a moment Issac stopped painting, stood stock still for a moment then stumbled backwards as he exited his trance. As he did so Sylar decided that now was the time he should make himself known, he didn't want to wait any longer to get this impressive ability.

"It really is true," he said making Issac spin around to face him. "You really can paint the future."

"I know why you're here," Issac said. "You're the one who is going to try and kill me."

"Correct," Sylar replied impressed by the painter's coolness, there were very few who knew who he was that could look him in the eye with a seeming total lack of fear. "You know this is usually the part where people start screaming."

"Why should I," Issac asked taking a small remote of some sort from his pocket and pressing a button there. "I have nothing to fear from you. My lord won't let you hurt me, Sylar."

Sylar raised an eyebrow. "Is that so," he asked in mild amusement. "And how is a metaphysical being supposed to stop me?"

"You'll see," Issac replied picking up a metallic device that looked like a coiled snake from the table, something, some intuition told Sylar that it was a weapon. Smirking he flicked his finger to send the device telekinetically flying out of Issac's hand.

Nothing happened.

Surprise flashed across Sylar's face and he flicked his finger again and again nothing happened. The power wouldn't come.

"What," he said looking down at his hands then back up at Issac a look of complete confusion and disbelief on his face.

Issac laughed. "As I said Sylar my lord will not let you harm me," he said. "His power is greater than yours. Your powers can't touch me," as he spoke he raised the zatnikatel that Lord Ba'al had provided him with and pressed the lower of the two small buttons on it, making it deploy so it was like a striking cobra, "whereas I can deal with you."

Without hesitation he pressed the top button. A crackling bolt of blue-white lightning spat from the muzzle of the weapon and smashed into Sylar. The metahuman serial murderer shook with the impact, feeling ever muscle in his body lock up in pain as the energy of the weapon shot through his nervous system bringing with it a lifetime of raw agony. A cry of pain and fury was drawn from his lungs then darkness enveloped him and Sylar collapsed to the deck and laid motionless, consciousness having deserted him.

Issac chuckled slightly a moment before the sound of someone clapping drew his attention, turning around he saw a slim, older man with greying hair had come into the room. And he was clapping his hands.

"Very nice, Mendez," he said and Issac recognised his voice as that of Mr Thompson. "That is an impressive weapon where did you get it?"

"That isn't your concern," Issac answered and lowered the weapon though he didn't retract it to its dormant state.

"I believe it is," Thompson replied as he came down to the main level of the studio and looked at the motionless Sylar. "Is he dead?"

"No merely stunned," Issac answered before in a single smooth motion bringing the weapon up again, "as you will be in a moment."

Thompson's eyes widened and he reflexively reached for the Company issue gun that he kept in a quick drawer holster under his coat. He wasn't fast enough, Issac fired and the energy bolt struck Thompson square in the chest. As Sylar had before him Thompson cried out in pain as the weapons effect ripped through his nervous system, it felt even worse than at attack from Bob Bishop's electrokinetic daughter Elle, he'd had the dubious pleasure of being on the receiving end of a zap from her more than once, then his eyes rolled backwards in his head and he collapsed, landing across Sylar's body.

Issac smiled and lowered the zatnikatel, deactivating it as he did so. His mission had been easy, both his targets had been immobilised without him even having to break a sweat. _Lord Ba'al will be so pleased,_ he thought putting the zat down while smiling as he imagined the reward his God would bestow upon him for successfully carrying out his will.

Calmly he picked up the modified mobile phone that Ba'al had given him and dialled in a single number before raising it to his ear. For a moment nothing happened then Lord Ba'al himself came on the line.

"**Report,"** Ba'al ordered.

"My Lord I am pleased to report that I have completed the mission objectives you assigned me," Issac reported. "I have captured Sylar and a representative of the Company."

"**Excellent, Mr Mendez,"** Ba'al answered his rumbling God voice sounding very pleased. **"Reinforcements are on there way to you now. You have done well, you shall be well rewarded."**

"My life is but to serve you my lord."

"**As it should be, I shall see you in person shortly, Mr Mendez."**

"I look forward to it my lord."

"**As you should, Mr Mendez, as you should."**

With that the phone went dead. Issac smiled and returned the phone to its place in his pocket a profound feeling of pleasure and contentment filling him. He had not failed his God; Ba'al was most pleased with him. And that made everything worthwhile as there was nothing better, no higher purpose than serving Lord Ba'al. Nothing not even Simone came close, she was just another misguided soul without a true god to serve. He pitied her and all those who did not know the bliss that was service to the greatest of the Goa'uld.

Yes he greatly pitied them.

* * *

**Atlantis**

**That Same Time**

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard had a concerned frown on his face as he walked into the infirmary to check on Elizabeth. He had put a hold on the mission to find the Ancients underwater geothermal drilling platform that had been scheduled for today, mostly because he'd been due to lead it and he didn't feel comfortable leaving Atlantis while Elizabeth remained in the infirmary. Oh he knew Lorne was fully capable of running the city in his absence – he'd done it before after all – but still leaving had felt, well wrong.

Quietly he made his way through the infirmary, glancing at the beds that were still occupied by some of the wounded from the explosion and fire of a few days ago. The worst of the wounded had been taken off their hands, the _Daedalus_ had left for Earth in the very early hours of this morning and taken the more badly wounded with them, but there were still a number in here recovering. Not speaking he exchanged the odd nod with them before arriving at a quieter part of the infirmary.

Elizabeth Weir lay sprawled on the bed, still unconscious and attached to sensors so her heart rate and breathing could be carefully monitored. Carson was there as well, gently checking over her vital signs.

"How is she, doc," he asked stepping into the room.

Carson looked up, though he had known that Sheppard was there. He'd felt the man's concern as soon as he'd entered the infirmary. "She's recovering slowly, colonel," he explained. "Her mind has been through one hell of a trauma and she needs to rest to recover from it, the fact that she was borderline exhausted anyway hasn't helped."

Sheppard nodded. "Why did she collapse like that," he asked. "Rodney and Lorne say it was from the sudden shock of hearing other people's thoughts."

"Aye and their right," Carson answered gently brushing Elizabeth's hair line before stepping away and moving to join Sheppard at the door. "Full scale telepathy can manifest in one of two ways," he explained. "Either it creeps up on you and you only periodically hear the thoughts of others, or it comes on all at once and you get a deluge. That's what happened to Elizabeth, her mind didn't know what was happening, didn't know how to suddenly cope with the new sensory input, so it just ran away and hid."

"I think I understand," Sheppard replied though he didn't really as he'd never been in the position that Elizabeth was currently in. "How long is she likely to stay out of it like this?"

Carson shrugged his surprisingly broad shoulders. "That's up to her," he admitted. "But as I said the fact that she was borderline exhausted from everything that's happened recently has not helped matters. She'll sleep until her body decides that it's ready to wake back up, all we can do till then is keep her comfortable and wait."

"What do we do when she wakes up," Sheppard asked. "She's going to hear our thoughts constantly isn't she?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Carson replied. "I can teach her the basics on how to shield her mind, so she doesn't get swamped by hearing thoughts again. But full assessment and control of her abilities, well that's something I can't help with as my abilities are to different to hers.

"The only people I know of who can really help her with her abilities are back on Earth," Carson continued. "They're the same people who helped my beloved Carolyn when she first developed her abilities and who with her helped me when mine manifested."

"Whose Carolyn," Sheppard asked and saw pain flash across Carson's face.

"She was someone that I was very close to," Carson admitted. "We were going to get married when she was killed in a road accident."

"I'm sorry to hear that doc," Sheppard said sympathetically putting a hand on Carson's arm even as for a moment he felt pain and sorrow, echoes of a grief that would never truly go away, grief that was not his own. It was only there for a second before disappearing and he knew, knew that for that brief moment Carson had been involuntarily projecting his own feelings onto him.

"Sorry," Carson said softly, "I didn't mean to do that, it's just hard not to when I talk about, Carolyn."

"It's alright, I know what its like to loose someone you love," Sheppard replied and was rewarded with a soft smile from the Scot.

It was at that moment that the cities intercom came to life. "Colonel Sheppard to the control room immediately," Chuck's voice said, "repeat Colonel Sheppard to the control room immediately."

"Now what," Sheppard said with a groan wondering what crisis was brewing now. Crisis after crisis was all that they seemed to get in the Pegasus Galaxy these days; what with the Wraith on the rampage across the culling world after world wiping out whole races of people in there needed to feed, and with the mechanical menace of the Asurans waiting in the wings.

"Will you keep me up to date on how she is doc," he asked as he turned to leave.

"Sure," Carson replied. Sheppard nodded and headed out of the infirmary to see what crisis was brewing now. Carson watched him leave and not for the first time noted how close Sheppard was to Elizabeth, a relationship that he knew to be based on mutual respect, friendship and a very small amount of sexual attraction. _Aye I'll look after her lad,_ he thought before turning his full attention back to Elizabeth. When she woke up she was going to need him like she had never needed him before.

And he was determined to be ready.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty Two**

_He found himself standing in Times Square in New York, but there was no one around, cars remained where they had been abandoned by their owners and an oppressive silence filled the air. It was as if the whole world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen._

_Confused he looked around at the abandoned cityscape; he didn't understand how he had got here or where everybody was. Somehow he knew that they were not here anymore, everyone was gone._

_That was when he heard it._

_A strange humming sound, like some kind of engine, filled the air, echoing off the walls of the concrete, glass and steel canyons formed by the towering buildings. A dark shadow began to creep up the street and he looked up. A ship was moving across the sky towards him. It was huge, dark, bristling with armour and weapons and was clearly alien in design and construction._

_For a moment nothing more happened, then a point on the ships underside flashed and a tremendous bolt of energy shot forth. He watched the bolt of energy strike the Chrysler building and literally blew right through it, burying itself in the skyscraper next to the structure before exploding. Debris from both buildings rained down on the streets even as the mortally wounded Chrysler began to fall._

_More bolts of energy emerged from the alien ship, shattering buildings and starting monstrous fires where they struck. All around the chaos of destruction thundered as blast after blast struck the city, steadily beginning to raze it to the ground. He looked around helplessly as the city he loved was destroyed around him._

_A much closer explosion, one from directly over his head, caught his attention. He looked up in time to see a rain of burning debris heading down towards him. Reflexively he raised his arms to shield himself, mouth opening into a scream of terror..._

* * *

**The Network Headquarters**

**London, United Kingdom**

Peter Petrelli awoke from his afternoon doze with a loud yell, before sitting up on the cot and gasping rapidly as his heart beat pounded in his ears. He was caked in sweat and stinking of fear and panic. As he slowly calmed down he recalled the dream that he'd just had, a dream that he knew from experience was not just a dream, not just a nightmare.

He had been in New York again. But unlike in the dreams that had been haunting him for months he was not the cause of his native cities demise. Instead of somehow transforming into a Human nuke and blowing the city apart with his detonation he had been an observer watching an alien ship methodically level the city with energy weapons.

Shaking slightly with the after effect of all that adrenaline he stood up and made his way over to the sink in the small bathroom of his small room at Network Headquarters. After running some water he splashed it over his face while continuing to think about the dream. _That ship what was it,_ he thought, _who were they and why were they attacking New York?_

After refreshing himself as much as he could he left the bathroom and his room, before making his way through Network Headquarters deep in thought. He was so preoccupied by the disturbing dream, the vision of the future that he didn't look where he was going. Until that was he collided with Julian Whitehurst knocking both of them sprawling.

"Hey," the teleporting teenager said. "Why don't you watch where you're going?"

"I'm sorry," Peter replied getting his feet back under him and offering a hand to help the young teleporter – or jumper as he called himself – back to his feet. "I wasn't looking where I was going," he continued.

"That's obvious," Julian replied as he accepted the helping hand, before looking at the American empathic mimic and noticing he seemed to be somewhat agitated. "Are you alright?"

"As well as can be expected given the dream I just had," Peter replied. "Especially as I know it's not a dream."

Julian blinked. "You have prophetic dreams," he asked.

"Yeah and they can be… unsettling to say the least."

"What did you see," Julian asked in curiosity as he'd never met anyone with prophetic dreams before in eleven years that had passed since The Network took him in and provided him with both a home, guidance on how to use his ability as a jumper and more importantly a place to belong. The various forms of clairvoyance and prophetic abilities had like jumpers cropped up a number of times throughout history but until now he'd never encountered then, but then again he'd never met an empathic mimic before either.

Peter considered for a moment before answering. "I saw New York being destroyed," he said. "I don't know exactly when it will happen but I know it will."

Julian frowned. "Maybe you should have a word with, Mrs Hamilton-Ward," he suggested. "Tell her what you've just seen."

"That's where I was going."

"I see," Julian replied then smiled slightly before taking Peter's arm and before the older man could say anything he teleported the two of them to the antechamber of Laura Hamilton-Ward's office. Peter blinked startled at the sudden change of scenery, even knowing Hiro he still wasn't quite used to the abrupt changes of scenery that came with teleportation.

"Here you are," Julian said releasing his arm. "Saved you waiting in the cue for the lift, only one is working, the other has broken down – again."

"That happen a lot?"

"Unfortunately yeah, especially here but then this facility is old as Network facilities go. I'll leave you now I have to go teleport Lord Raines back to Washington now; apparently he has to go to a dinner meeting this evening talk about major boring."

Peter chuckled, he knew that sentiment. He had thought that at many of the formal dinners his family had held over the years and at all the fund raising events Nathan had held in the last few months, events he'd felt obligated to his older sibling to go to.

"I know that feeling," he said. "At least you don't have to go in."

Julian looked horrified at the very idea of sitting through something like that. "Thank God I haven't," he said. "I'd end up going absolutely mad by the end of it, or end up jumping out of there at the first opportunity, though I'd get it in the neck if anyone saw me. I'd have the Paladins on my tail in thirty seconds flat, and I've had enough experiences with them thank you very much."

"Paladins, who are they?"

"It's a long story," Julian replied. "And I don't really have enough time to explain it now. Though if you're interested just look in the library section of the Networks intranet system. There's quite a bit of information on the Paladins there."

"Okay," Peter answered.

Julian shrugged. "Just brace yourself as its not nice reading," he advised. "Anyway I better go, I liable to get throttled if I'm late picking his lordship up."

"You better go then," Peter said. "And Julian thanks for the lift."

"Anytime," Julian replied with a cheeky teenage grin before disappearing with all the fuss of a bursting soap bubble. For a millisecond Peter felt a gust of wind whoosh passed him to fill in the void left by Julian blinking out of existence.

Peter shook his head, he had to admit that teleportation be it jumping like Julian or bending the whole space time continuum the way Hiro did was a cool power; almost as cool as flying and telekinesis which were the coolist powers in his opinion, though cell regeneration came in a close second.

Turning away from where Julian had been standing, Peter knocked on Laura's office door and waited to be allowed admittance.

"Come in," Laura's voice called from within. Peter smiled and opened the door, to find himself in a small but nicely decorated office with plane white-washed walls, and a few potted plants to add a flash of colour. Laura Hamilton-Ward sat behind a heavy wooden desk tapping away on a computer before looking up to see who her visitor was.

"Ah Peter this is a surprise," she said. "What can I do for you?"

"I was dozing in my room when I had one of my dreams," Peter said. "Its about New York being destroyed, but its different to the ones I've been having over the last few months."

"A new dream," Laura repeated, "but with a very similar theme to before?"

"After a fashion. I bumped into Julian out in the corridor and he suggested that I tell you about it."

"A good call, but then Julian is a good kid for the most part, bit strong-willed and awkward at times but then he's a teenager," Laura said with a smile before gesturing to the chair opposite her. "Please take a seat then tell me about this new dream of yours, then we can see about making sure that it doesn't come to pass."

Peter nodded and slid into the indicated seat. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before telling Laura his tail about how New York would sometime in the future be destroyed by a barrage of energy fire from an alien warship. Laura frowned as he spoke but didn't interrupt just let him continue with his narrative.

All in all it took just over five minutes for Peter to fully explain what he had dreamed. At the end of it Laura was silent for a few moments, mulling everything she'd just been told over in her head.

"Can you describe the alien ship that you saw destroying New York," she asked inwardly wondering which of Earth's alien enemies it could be as it could only either be what was left of the Goa'uld System Lords or the Ori as the Wraith lacked the ability to get to this galaxy. Course it was possible that the warship would belong to someone else as she knew the SGC had a very bad habit of pissing off powerful alien races.

Peter nodded. "I think so," he said. "It was big, very broad across I'd say a mile wide maybe bigger. The main body looked like a disc with five long points sticking out and a small pyramid on top."

Laura frowned slightly as he spoke. She couldn't be sure of course having never seen one herself but she thought that Peter was describing a Goa'uld Command Ship of the mark used by Anubis – before his demise.

"Do you know when the attack will take place," she asked.

Peter shook his head. "I'm sorry I don't," he said. "I only knew the date New York would originally be destroyed by me going nuclear through Hiro."

"It's okay I know how difficult it is getting precise details from the future," Laura replied. "The fact that we don't know when the attack will happen is going to make things difficult to stop it but we'll do our best. But this is too big for The Network to handle alone."

"We're going to need the help of Stargate Command aren't we," Peter said knowingly, recalling his earlier feeling that he would meet the SGC representatives again soon.

"Indeed we are," Laura replied. "Unfortunately Colonel Davis and Mr Woolsey are already on a plane bound for Washington, they won't touch down for a couple of hours yet and Julian is probably transporting Lord Raines back to Washington as we speak."

"So what do we do," Peter asked.

"We'll have to tell them," Laura answered. "But it will have to wait till Julian returns and can teleport you to Washington."

"Me why me," Peter asked.

"Because the vision was yours and it would be best if you explained it," Laura replied. "The question is Peter do you think you could control your abilities while you're there? Politicians are not the easiest people to deal with."

"I'm a Petrelli," Peter reminded her. "I'm used to dealing with politicians. As for controlling my powers you're people have given me a lot of valuable advice over the last few days, on top of the file card trick Claude taught me its helping a lot. I could do with a bit more practice but I'm sure I can manage for a short while."

"Good. Then we better start working out what exactly you are going to say."

"Yes we should," Peter agreed. "I take it you have a few ideas."

"As a matter of fact I do."

"Then I am all ears."

* * *

**Stargate Operations**

**Atlantis, A Few Minutes Later**

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard was scowling as he made his way up the steps between the Stargate and the mezzanine level that housed Atlantis control room, Elizabeth's office and access to a balcony on the side of the tower. Arriving on the level he saw that Rodney and Radek Zalenka were waiting for him a grim expressions on their faces.

"What is it, Rodney," he asked.

"We may have a bit of a problem, John," Rodney replied.

"What kind of problem? Wraith? Replicator?"

"Possibly of the suck-life out of you sort," Rodney answered. "There's a Wraith near here."

"Or what we think is a Wraith," Radek added.

"Please it can hardly be anything else."

"Gentlemen," Sheppard said before the Canadian and the Czech could descend into yet another of their good natured bitching matches. Sometimes the two of them reminded him of nothing so much as an old married couple, though he wasn't stupid enough to say that to them. It wasn't a good idea to piss off the two people in charge of maintaining and analysing Atlantis systems – they could make things most unpleasant for you if you did that. As many a marine had found out the hard way.

"Tell me where this Wraith is," Sheppard continued. "How far out is the ship?"

"Within twenty kilometres," Rodney replied.

"What! How the hell would a Wraith ship get so close without us detecting them and without the Asgard ships in orbit blowing them out of the sky?"

"Because it's been here a very long time," Rodney replied. "Probably since the first Siege of Atlantis during the Ancients war with the Wraith."

Sheppard frowned in confusion. "Start at the beginning, Rodney," he said.

"Thank you," Rodney said. "You recall the undersea geothermal drilling station we were going to go search for today, before Elizabeth ugh collapsed at breakfast." Sheppard nodded. "Well I thought we could speed up the search tremendously with some assistance from the Asgard so I sent a message up to the _Mjolnir_ explaining the situation to Thor and asking if he would mind scanning the seabed around the city."

"How would that help," Sheppard asked.

"Asgard short range sensors are more powerful than those Atlantis has," Radek explained. "Short to medium range sensors and hyperdrives are among the areas of where Asgard technology has surpassed that of the Ancients."

"As I was saying I asked Thor if he would mind scanning the seabed," Rodney continued. "He was quite happy to and we have found the drilling platform, its located on a thin section of the abyssal plane twenty one kilometres south east of the city at a depth of fifteen hundred feet. But Thor also found something else."

As Rodney spoke he manipulated the crystalline controls on one of the consoles and brought up an image of the ocean floor near Atlantis, or a representation anyway courtesy of the powerful sensors on the Asgard ship _Mjolnir_. The Ancients mobile undersea geothermal power station was visible as a blue dot as was Atlantis itself, but between the two was a red dot.

Rodney manipulated the controls some more and they zoomed in on that section of the ocean floor, and what initially looked like a strange formation of rocks appeared sticking out of the silt at an odd angle. A moment later though the silt layers peeled away revealing a ship buried in the silt, a ship whose design was chillingly familiar.

"A Wraith cruiser," Sheppard said.

Rodney nodded. "We figure it was shot down by the Ancients during the war and crashed in the ocean," he said. "But that's not the problem; Thor picked up an extremely weak life sign on board."

"What one of the crew is still alive after all this time," Sheppard exclaimed. "That shouldn't be possible, unless..."

"Unless they're hibernating," Rodney finished for him. "The problem is the cruiser is between us and the drilling platform, the moment a Puddle Jumper passes it, it's likely that it will awaken the Wraith inside as I wouldn't put it past any surviving Wraith crew to have programmed the ships sensors to awaken them the moment a craft was detected."

"Well that's not good," Sheppard said. "Nor can we sit here when there is a security threat this massive nearby."

"If you're planning to blow up the cruiser I wouldn't advise it," Rodney told him firmly. "According to the cities records – and the _Mjolnir's_ sensors confirm this – the ocean floor in that area is extremely thin, destroying the cruiser could rupture the crust exposing the magma below. We would have a massive undersea volcanic eruption dangerously close to Atlantis. And since we don't really have enough power to make the city fly."

"That would not be a good thing," Sheppard finished then sighed. "We still can't leave that Wraith there but I can't leave Atlantis while Elizabeth is incapacitated."

"As I said the presence of that cruiser and the likelihood of a hibernating Wraith on board is a bit of a problem," Rodney said. "But it also presents us with an opportunity to get a really in depth look at Wraith technology, all we have to do is eliminate any Wraith that are onboard."

"Which is easier said than done as any Wraith that's survived this long is likely to be very hard to kill," Sheppard answered. "Can we beam on board the cruiser?"

Rodney shook his head. "Afraid not, the transporter beam can't penetrate that depth of water."

Sheppard scowled. "Then we will just have to board by Jumper," he said before toggling his earpiece. "Lorne this is Sheppard, get two teams ready and report to the briefing room. Teyla, Ronon please go to the briefing room as well."

"Yes sir," Lorne responded.

"On our way, Colonel," Teyla added a moment later sounding slightly breathless clearly having been in the middle of a workout with Ronon. Another tap of his earpiece deactivated the communications link.

"Rodney gear up," Sheppard said. "I want you to go with them."

For a moment Rodney considered arguing, not wanting to voluntarily go into a ship that could be crawling with one of the deadliest adversaries that they had ever known. But then he reluctantly nodded and headed out of the control room to get changed into his field gear.

Sheppard watched him go. "Keep an eye on that cruiser, Radek," he said. "And have someone with the Ancient gene in the chair room just in case."

"Right," Radek said. Sheppard turned away and left the control room to go to the briefing room to await the arrival of everyone he was sending on a mission that was bound to be dangerous. Missions where there was the possibility of encountering the Wraith always were.

* * *

**Ba'al's Headquarters**

**Earth, That Same Time**

Sylar groaned softly as consciousness returned. His whole body was tingling like he had major pins and needles as he slowly forced his eyes open. To find that he was laid out in a circle of light on a solid concrete floor, beyond the circle of light there was nothing but darkness.

Groaning again he awkwardly got to his feet and tried to employ his super hearing to see if there was anyone around. Only to find that once again his powers refused point blank to work. _What the hell is wrong with me,_ he thought in shock, _what has Mendez and his 'lord' done to me? Why aren't my powers working?_

It was very disconcerting to suddenly be without the glorious strength of his special abilities, to be powerless. It made him feel less like Sylar and more like ordinary watchmaker Gabriel Grey – the nobody he had been until the late Doctor Chandra Suresh had found him and unlocked his true potential. He had promised himself that he would never be that pathetic nobody again; being helpless and powerless as he seemed to be now was a very uncomfortable reminder of his old life.

Snarling slightly in anger at the situation he found himself in he started to walk forwards, only to slam into what felt like a wall and be thrown backwards to land back on his rump. _What the hell,_ he though getting back to his feet. Cautiously he walked forward again and held out his hand. The moment his hand reached the edge of the circle it stopped and around his hand an energy field glowed blue and shimmered revealing a quasi-crystalline pattern. Sylar took a startled step back. _A force field,_ he thought in disbelief, _impossible._

At that moment a door on the far side of the room opened, revealing a Human figure visible only as a shadow back dropped by the brilliant light of the world outside. A series of additional light circles appeared connecting his circle to do the door. The figure started to walk towards him his/her footsteps echoing in the darkness.

As the figure drew closer he saw that it was man, quite a handsome one to. But there was something about him, something that felt well wrong. It sent a cold shiver down Sylar's spine and for the first time since he'd discovered his gift he truly felt fear. A powerful sensation of evil menace was coming from the man as he came to a stop on the opposite side of the invisible force field.

**"You are the one who calls himself, Sylar,"** the man said in a deep, distorted, booming voice that did not sound even remotely human.

"Yes," Sylar answered a little relieved that whoever this man was he hadn't called him Gabriel he hated being called by that weaklings name. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"

**"I am you're God,"** the man replied in that creepy voice. **"I am Ba'al, as for what I want well what I want it's you. Or specifically I want your _impressive_ abilities."**

"No chance," Sylar answered. "But if you let me go I might be willing to let you live."

Ba'al chuckled slightly and to Sylar's surprise his eyes flashed with a golden light from within. **"You can do nothing to me,"** he said. **"I have made sure that for the duration that I will it your powers will not work, Gabriel."**

Sylar snarled slightly at the mention of that name. "Do not use that name," he said. "I am Sylar not Gabriel."

**"I will call you what I please, Human,"** Ba'al told him. **"At any rate your name does not matter. Soon you will serve me for the rest of eternity."**

"I will never help you."

Ba'al smiled and his eyes flashed again. **"Oh but you will, Human,"** he said. "**In fact you will have no choice, no choice at all."**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty Three**

**Mohinder Suresh's Apartment**

**New York, Sometime Later**

Mohinder Suresh sat silent in one of the overstuffed chairs in the living area of his apartment, the note Sylar had so _kindly_ left him still in his hand. He wasn't able to stop looking at it and facing the damming knowledge that he had given one of the vilest, most evil men that he had ever had the misfortune to know the tool that would enable him to hunt down and kill everyone with a special power that he wanted.

For the first time in his life Mohinder felt like having a drink or taking drugs, anything to wash the guilt and horror of what he had done and what he would now be an accessory to away. But having been strictly t-total his whole life – not even drinking when he was in university doing his doctorate in genetics, despite the best efforts of many of his then-time friends – there were no alcoholic beverages of any kind in the apartment, and he didn't know where in the city he could get narcotics from. _Enough moping, Mohinder,_ he thought mentally shaking himself, or trying to. _Sylar deceived you yes but you can still get a warning out, at least tell Nathan, you know where he is you can warn him that his life is in grave danger._

Determination replaced his despondency and he got to his feet and made his way over to the phone. Picking up the phone he dialled Nathan's campaign office number with quick determined movements, Nathan had given it to him just in case Peter came to see him at some point. Raising the phone to his ear he was stunned when he didn't hear it ringing or even a dialling tone. _What's wrong with this thing,_ he thought looking at the base station for the cordless phone.

And groaned at what he saw.

The telephone point was on the floor whereas it had once been on the wall, broken wires hung limply and chips of plaster showed where it had been violently pulled free of the plasterboard wall. Mohinder stared at it for a moment then growled in frustrated annoyance, it hadn't been like that before so he could only assume that Sylar had done it, ripped the phone off the wall with his telekinetic powers making sure it would be useless. _If he wanted to stop me calling for help or issuing a warning then why didn't he kill me,_ he wondered, _unless he wants to torture me with the knowledge of what I've done, though that seems cruel even for Sylar._

With a yell of anger Mohinder threw the useless phone away, it slammed into the living room wall and shattered into fragments of plastic, wiring and circuitry as it fell to the floor. _Now what do I do,_ he thought running a hand down his face as he struggled to think of what his next move should be. Hopefully it would not be one that Sylar had anticipated and countered.

It was at that moment that someone knocked on his apartment door. Mohinder froze for a moment and the knock came again. Taking a deep breath to calm himself and banish his anger he went to the door and opened it.

A beautiful, blond haired woman in a deep blue uniform and holding a metallic briefcase stood in the hallway two fit looking young men behind her wore similar uniforms thought they lacked briefcases. "Doctor Mohinder Suresh?" she asked.

"Yes."

"I'm Colonel Samantha Carter of the United States Air Force, is it possible that I could have a word with you please," the woman answered.

"Now," Mohinder asked wondering what on Earth the United States Air Force would want with him.

"If possible, though I can come back later if this is not a good time."

"That depends, what is it you want to talk to me about?"

"You've been conducting research into advanced Human genetics correct; specifically with regards to individuals gifted with what can only be described as super powers."

Mohinder stared at her in shock and a hint of horror. How had the American military found out about superhumans and how had they found him? He could only imagine what they would do with people who had powers. _Probably kidnap them and turn them into weapons,_ he thought in disgust, _that's all the military ever cares about is how something can be used as a weapon._

"It's okay we have no plans to turn metahumans into weapons," Sam said seeing the expression flash across the handsome Indian man's face. "But we do need your help, in fact it was a metahuman you're familiar with who suggested that we contact you."

Mohinder frowned. Metahuman, he had never heard that word before though it did perfectly describe individuals like Nathan, Peter and Sylar who had abilities far outside the Human norm. "Who was it," he asked. "Who told you to contact me?"

"Peter Petrelli."

Mohinder's eyes widened. "Peter! You've seen him? Where is he?"

"London, England getting guidance on how to control his abilities apparently," Sam replied. "But standing out here is not the best place to have a conversation like this."

"No, no it isn't," Mohinder agreed and stood aside. "Please come in."

"Thank you," Sam answered and stepped inside, with Airmen Dave Turner and Paul Tomlinson following her inside. Mohinder closed the door after them and led them to the sitting area. As they walked Sam looked around and noticed the tell tale signs that there had been a fight here, quite a vicious one by the looks of things. Yet strangely aside from a few bruises visible on his face Dr Suresh seemed to have sustained no injuries. _Something strange is going on here,_ she thought, _but then where this metahuman thing is concerned we're all novices._

"Please take a seat," Mohinder said gesturing to the couch.

"Thank you," Sam replied smoothing the dress of her dress uniform as she sat down. Her two airmen escorts remained standing, listening in interest to what was going to be said next.

"You said you needed my help," Mohinder said sitting down in one of the chairs with a relieved sigh as some of the pressure was taken off his bruised back, being slammed into the wall and then the ceiling by powerful telekinetic attacks had that effect. "And that Peter was the one who told you to contact me."

"That's correct. In exchange for your help we're prepared to offer you as much funding and equipment as you need to pursue your studies of metahuman genetics and what the manifestation of such advanced abilities means for the future of the people of this planet."

"A generous offer," Mohinder replied a little stunned, more funding and better equipment for his research would be like a dream come true; he wouldn't be struggling with some of the outdated equipment that his father had been able to acquire before Sylar murdered him in cold blood. Who knew what breakthroughs he could make with access to state of the art equipment? "What is it you want from me?" he asked.

"Before I do I have to advise you that what we are about to discuss is classified as top secret and must not be repeated to anyone. The world is not ready to know what I am about to tell you, if you agree that is."

Mohinder raised an eyebrow and studied the blond haired woman for a moment. He got the impression that something truly momentous was in the works, that what Colonel Carter had come here to see him about was going to turn his world upside down and inside out. Part of him wanted to say no and ask Colonel Carter to leave but he was so curious to know what was happening, the scientist in him wanting to know.

"Very well, I agree," he said at last and a look of relief passed across Colonel Carter's face as he spoke.

"Thank you," she said. "There will be some paperwork to fill in later to formalise the arrangement but let's save that to last shall we?"

"Good idea, I hate form filling," Mohinder answered.

"In my experience no one likes filling in forms," Sam replied, "except the bureaucrats of course."

"Of course," Mohinder said with a grin remembering his own battles with university administration bureaucrats back in his native India, and the battle he'd had with US embassy diplomats in New Delhi when he'd gotten his visa to come here.

"What I have to tell you is going to take some time, so I would ask that you hold off on any questions until I'm done."

"Fair enough," Mohinder replied inwardly worrying about how much time this could take. He didn't have long to get a warning out to Nathan about Sylar, though the serial murderer would have to be very brazen indeed to go after Nathan Petrelli right now when he was surrounded by guards and the media – attention that was only getting worse as polling day drew closer. Hungry as he was for abilities Mohinder doubted that Sylar would be foolish enough to go after Nathan right now.

Sam nodded. "It begins back in the late nineteen twenties Professor Paul Langford recovered a large ring shaped artefact from the Giza Plateau in Egypt, it has been in the custody of the US Air Force since the late nineteen thirties. The artefact turned out to be a highly advanced piece of alien technology called a Stargate; now the Stargate is a device that allows transport to other planets in this and other galaxies via a subspace worm…"

* * *

**Atlantis**

**That Same Time**

Heimdall calmly made his way through the hustle and bustle of the corridors in Atlantis' main tower heading for the infirmary. He paid no mind to the surprised looks he was getting off some of the Humans who were milling about the city going about their business, Humans who were not used to seeing an Asgard wandering through Atlantis. Though Asgard working in the city had become a common site for the cities denizens over the last few days what with technicians from the orbiting Asgard battleships _Mjolnir_ and _Valhalla_ installing Asgard designed ground to space weapons to assist in the cities defence – supplementing the defensive grid they were deploying in orbit and the cities own formidable array of drones – few Asgard had ventured into the cities core areas where the bulk of the expedition team sent from Earth was based.

As he walked Heimdall couldn't help but eye his surroundings curiously, he had never been to Atlantis before. By the time his own life had begun the Ancients had already lost their war with the Wraith and been forced to abandon the city and this galaxy to its fate. Atlantis truly was an impressive site and an enduring testament to the absolute mastery of technology the Alterans had possessed. If the genetic problems of his people hadn't been so dire Heimdall could have easily devoted himself to probing the secrets of this cities technology – technology that in many cases was still many thousands of years ahead of what his own people possessed. As it was he had more important things to do, like finding a cure for the genetic degradation that had brought the Asgard race to the brink of extinction.

It was those genetic problems that had motivated him to head to the infirmary. He'd been aboard the _Daniel Jackson_ going over his initial genetic scan results of both Doctor Beckett and Major Lorne when he'd got a call that Doctor Beckett wanted to see him in the infirmary. Apparently the good doctor had discovered something that he wanted to show Heimdall but was reluctant to leave the infirmary at this time due to the condition that had developed with Doctor Weir earlier this morning. _While I'm in the infirmary I'll ask Doctor Beckett if he'll let me scan, Doctor Weir,_ Heimdall thought, _considering her powers – whatever they are – have just manifested it might reveal some interesting data that would be of use to me in my quest to save my people._

It took only a few more moments for Heimdall to reach the infirmary and step inside. The facility was quieter now than it had been, most of the wounded from the explosion last week having been taken back to Earth by the _Daedalus_. Only a handful of the less severely wounded remained in medical care and Heimdall knew they would be released to continue with their mission of probing the secrets of Atlantis within days.

For a moment Heimdall looked around trying to spot Doctor Beckett in the infirmary, it wasn't easy with all the other Humans about along with the medical equipment that partially blocked his view.

"Heimdall over here," Doctor Beckett's voice abruptly said from somewhere to Heimdall's right, prompting the Asgard scientist to turn and follow the sound. Sure enough he soon spotted where Carson Beckett was standing, checking the vital signs of one of his patients and made his way over.

"You asked to see me, Doctor Beckett," Heimdall said.

"Yes," Beckett replied. "Wait there one moment while I finish this then we can take our discussion to my office."

Heimdall inclined his head slightly in acceptance. "Very well," he agreed and watched as Beckett continued checking his patient, using a combination of Earth medical instruments and those Lantean made medical instruments that the expedition had so far been able to interpret well enough to safely use.

Within a few moments Beckett was finished with his checks, he stepped away from the bed and turned his full attention to Heimdall. "Please, Heimdall come this way," he said gesturing towards his office door.

Without waiting for a response from the Asgard Carson started walking across the infirmary, to his office, waving a hand over the crystals that controlled the door mechanism as he did so – so the door obediently slid open for him. Heimdall followed closely behind him, having to practically run in a subtle, Asgard fashion to keep up with the Humans much longer, faster strides. He knew Beckett didn't mean to outpace him, it was just the massive differences in their two species biology that made it very difficult for an Asgard to match the strides of a physically mature Human – especially as a adult Human male or female was taller and considerably bigger than any Asgard had ever been, even before they had started manipulating their own DNA to 'improve' the Asgard race. Something that Heimdall had to acknowledge had been a stupid thing for his ancestors to do – and history records showed that the Ancients had tried to warn them to be careful and to think about what they were doing. But those ancient Asgard hadn't listened to the Ancients warnings and it was their impatience with the natural pace of evolution of their species that had ultimately led the Asgard race into its current fix.

Heimdall shook off the thoughts about his ancient ancestor's foolishness as he stepped into Beckett's personal office. "What is it you wished to see me about, Doctor Beckett," he asked in curiosity.

"I've been going over the data you gave me about your species genetic problems," Carson replied as he settled down in the chair behind his desk. "I've run it through the cities medical database and combined with my own knowledge of metahuman genetics, I've come to some conclusions about why your clones are failing at increasing rates and I believe I might have discovered which meta gene sequence you need to at the very least buy yourselves more time."

"Go on," Heimdall said in interest starting to feel the first twinges of hope. Anything that would buy his species more time to find a solution to their genetic degradation would be of great benefit.

"Take a look at this," Carson said pulling up his results on his computer tablet and turning it so Heimdall could look at it. Awkwardly Heimdall took the alien device from the Human and examined the readings displayed. "As you can see the problem with your clones is that the cells in the clone body are dying faster than they can be replaced," Carson explained as Heimdall read through. "The DNA itself at this time is still mostly viable thanks to your controlled mutational process. What you need is something that will heal the damaged cells as they are dying, or which will instantly replace them when they do die – it should also increase genetic viability as it will introduce new factors into the Asgard genome, though the exact mechanics will take quite some time to sort out and would require more precise means of genetic manipulation than what we have here in Atlantis. At least what we've found so far."

"My people have the ability to do what you suggest," Heimdall replied. "There are such devices aboard the _Daniel Jackson_. I will to have to confer with Supreme Commander Thor and the Asgard High Council before I can allow you access to them. It is likely that they will approve me giving you access to them, Doctor Beckett. The information that you have already unearthed will be invaluable."

"Thank you," Carson replied. "It wasn't that difficult, it helps to have access to the cities medical database. We cracked the passwords on that part of the database soon after we got here, it helps that its slightly more user friendly than the rest of the database, though I do wish the Ancients had heard of such things as search engines."

Heimdall smiled in a subtle Asgard fashion as he heard a note of exasperation in the metahuman doctor's voice. He was familiar with it; the Asgard had been studying a part of the Ancients database that they had downloaded many millennia ago from one of the many repositories that the Ancients had left scattered across a number of galaxies in the local group for longer than he could remember. They had learned a great deal from it, but there was still so much more of it that they did not comprehend, the fact that the database wasn't very user friendly – to borrow a Tau'ri term – didn't help with probing its secrets. He could only imagine how difficult getting information out of the even more complex, even more complete database in Atlantis' computers was.

"You mentioned that you had identified the metahuman gene sequence that is the most likely to help my people, Doctor Beckett," Heimdall said prompting the Humans memory.

"Yes I have, it's for an ability that is extremely rare amongst my kind," Carson replied. "It's perhaps the rarest ability of all, aside from empathic mimicry."

"Empathic mimicry," Heimdall asked having no idea what kind of power Beckett was referring to. "What ability is that?"

"It's a rare ability, but people with empathic mimicry can copy the powers of other metahumans," Carson explained. "All they have to do is be near another metahuman to first gain their power, then they can use that power and any other abilities they've copied whenever they want to."

"Fascinating," Heimdall answered and he meant it. That kind of ability pointed to a DNA sequence that was incredibly adaptive, capable of seamlessly and effortlessly reconfiguring itself. Maybe it would be something that could help the Asgard race in solving their problems. "It might prove useful to my people as correct me if I am wrong but someone with empathic mimicry would have very adaptive DNA."

"They do but it's not the ability that you really need, plus empathic mimicry is very difficult to control – but that is beside the point. The DNA sequence that you really need is the one for rapid cellular regeneration. A metahuman with that power can heal from almost any wound save for one that damages the brain, anything else even the most severe burns they can heal from."

Heimdall blinked the characteristic big pure black eyes of his race in astonishment. The Asgard had never heard of a power like that outside the Wraith's ability to regenerate – which itself was linked to their need to feed on the life force of other beings. Something that they only knew about from SGC mission reports as to Heimdall's knowledge the Asgard had never come to the Pegasus Galaxy before now, not even when the Lantean-Wraith war was in full swing – though they would have come if the Ancients had swallowed their pride and asked for their help. At least officially they had never been here, Heimdall like many other Asgard had heard rumours that the Vanir tribe of Asgard – with the exception of Loki and Freyr – had come here during the war, but there had been no proof of it.

"Incredible," Heimdall said softly. "Have you ever seen this ability?"

"Not directly no, as I said it's a very rare ability. But I know of cases of people who have that power," Carson told him. "There have been only one or two instances of a person manifesting that particular ability, all of whom would be back on Earth."

"I see, that will make things difficult," Heimdall said knowing that finding one or two individuals with a specific power out of the six billion people on Earth would be next to impossible even with his peoples scanning technology. As powerful and as advanced as their sensors were even they had their limits.

"But not impossible," Carson replied with a smile. "There are people I know on Earth who could help us, people outside the Stargate program but they deal with beings like me and Evan all the time. I'll probably need to take Elizabeth to them anyway so they can help her with her newfound telepathic abilities."

"I see. That reminds me with your permission, Doctor Beckett I would like to run a scan on Doctor Weir," Heimdall said. "I believe a comparison between the current configuration of her DNA and the way it was previously may provide some valuable data."

"It might do, but it's not my permission that you need. You will have to speak to Elizabeth when she wakes up."

Heimdall inclined his head in understanding. "Very well, I will ask her when she awakens," he said. "Do you have any idea when that will be, Doctor Beckett?"

Carson shook his head. "Unfortunately no," he admitted. "As I told Colonel Sheppard, her mind has had one hell of a shock and will need time to recover. And the fact that she was on the borderline of total exhaustion to start with doesn't help. She'll sleep as long as she needs to."

"I understand."

"I'll let you know when she wakes up."

"Very well, in the meantime I will return to the _Daniel Jackson_, I must speak with Thor and the High Council. Will you arrange for a copy of your findings to be sent to me, Doctor Beckett?"

"Certainly," Carson replied. "I'll have to think about how we can get our hands on the DNA of someone with rapid cell regeneration, it's doable but it will be difficult."

"Any assistance you can provide will be most appreciated, Doctor Beckett," Heimdall replied before operating a small remote device that activated the _Daniel Jackson's_ transporter which whisked him away with the familiar silver-white flash and faintly musical tone of Asgard transporter technology.

Alone once more in his office, Carson sighed and leaned back in his chair deep in thought. After a moment he toggled his headset. "Colonel Sheppard can you come to my office please," he said. "I'm going to need your help with something."

"On my way, doc," Colonel John Sheppard answered immediately.

* * *

**Puddle Jumper**

**Lantean Ocean, That Same Time**

Major Evan Lorne was cautious as he guided the puddle jumper towards the long crashed Wraith cruiser. He had never flown a puddle jumper underwater before and he didn't like it one bit, it felt well odd. Through the neural interface between his mind and the puddle jumpers systems he was aware of the resistance of the water as they travelled – it felt almost like trying to fly through treacle, and the immense weight of the entire ocean pressing against the thin shell of energy that was the jumper's shields. It was disconcerting to say the least, especially as he was fully conscious of the fact that the shields were the only thing that was preventing the pressure of the depths from crushing the ship down to the size of a thimble.

"There it is," Rodney McKay abruptly said from beside him where he had been monitoring the sensors. As Rodney spoke Lorne was aware of Rodney giving the puddle jumper a command through the co-pilots neural interface, bringing up the holographic HUD. The HUD showed a three dimensional image of the ocean floor, though might as well have been the surface of Earth's moon for its total, stark lifelessness. All around there was nothing but a featureless expanse of mud and silt that seemed to extend into infinity.

Sticking up out of the silt and mud of the abyssal plane was the rear end of a Wraith cruiser, surprisingly appearing to be intact until Rodney directed the sensors to scan the crashed alien warship in more detail. The results immediately popped up on the HUD and revealed that there was extensive damage in the cruisers aft compartments, both its twin sublight drives and the hyperdrive system had been completely smashed.

"Hmm that explains how it got down here," Rodney said thoughtfully as he studied the damage with an expert eye, his secondary doctorate in mechanical engineering coming to the fore. "Sensors indicate that the cruisers propulsion systems have been completely destroyed. My guess is they either took a full salvo of particle cannon fire or caught the last dregs of a drone salvo on their aft sections. The ship would have become caught in Lantea's gravity and pulled down. They must have hit pretty hard as well – I'm reading massive damage in all forward compartments, those that I can scan below the mud. I'm surprised they didn't break apart when they hit the water let alone the ocean floor."

Lorne nodded. "It is impressive," he admitted, "that Wraith ships can take that kind of an impact, most spaceships I know of can't. Any trace of that life sign, Rodney?"

Rodney shook his head. "No the cruisers hull is heavily encrusted with silt and muck, that combined with the depth of the water is making it difficult for our sensors to penetrate the undamaged areas of the hull," he answered with a clear note of annoyance in his voice.

"So we have no idea what we're going into," Ronon said from where he was sitting directly behind Rodney.

"Well it looks that way," Rodney replied with the usual exasperated tone for someone stating the perfectly obvious. Ronon for his part just smiled softly, he had gotten used to McKay and his seeming lack of patience long ago. That didn't mean he liked it but he never did anything about it, and he had to admit he did admire the way that Rodney always spoke his mind. Even if it was to say something that you didn't particularly want to hear.

"What about power readings, Rodney," Lorne asked.

Rodney checked the sensors again. "Minimal power readings," he said. "My guess is the cruisers main power plant is off line and its running on the last dregs of its emergency power supply."

"Hmm," Lorne said. "So we got a decision to make do we go aboard, or do we just fire a few drones at the thin crust under the thing and send it to its doom in the mantle? I don't like going into a situation that we know next to nothing about."

"I'm not exactly thrilled about it myself," Rodney admitted feeling a profound sense of relief at Major Lorne's caution. It was such a sharp contrast to Sheppard who had this habit of rushing in where angels feared to tread, and seemed determined to make Rodney go grey years earlier than he should do with his daredevil antics. "But we have come this far," he added. "It would be a shame to let such an opportunity to get a decent look at some Wraith technology go."

"True though this cruiser has been here for ten thousand years the intel we could gather would be invaluable," Lorne agreed with a sigh. "Start looking for somewhere for us to dock, Rodney."

"Right," Rodney replied and started working the sensors to find a place where they could dock with the cruiser.

It took a few moments but he was soon able to locate a likely point of access. The cruisers aft portside airlock was still intact; they would be able to achieve hard lock there. With a mental command to the jumpers systems he brought the location up on the HUD.

"There," he said. "The aft port airlock is still intact; if we connect to it we can extend our shield to form a hard seal."

"Right," Lorne replied and started working to guide the jumper to the location Rodney had indicated.

* * *

**A Few Moments Later**

The puddle jumper shivered as Lorne made contact with the Wraith ships airlock. The airlock was strangely designed, oval in shape like many Wraith doorways were, but it was just wide enough for the jumper to get into.

"Okay extending shield," Rodney said softly as he operated the controls in front of him. Through the pilot's neural interface Lorne felt a shiver in the shield as it extended from a tight bubble hugging the jumper's hull, expanding to fill the airlock cavity of the Wraith ship – creating a pressure wave as it pushed the ocean water out of the way. "Done," Rodney said.

"Okay lets get in there," Lorne replied powering down as many of the puddle jumpers systems as he dared to. Though the subspace batteries that powered the jumper held enough energy to run the jumper for days – even under these conditions – he wasn't about to take any unnecessary chances.

As soon as he was done he stood up and picked up his P90 from the side of the pilots chair. Rodney, Teyla and Ronon did the same, though in Ronon's case it was simply to draw his blaster out of its holster and power it up. In the rear compartment the four marines and two scientists that they'd brought along did the same thing, though the two scientists only had Beretta semi-automatic pistols as opposed to a P90 rifle. Not all the scientists assigned to Atlantis were as proficient with weapons as Rodney – though he'd only learned out of necessity due to his position on Atlantis 1.

Moving to the rear of the jumper, Lorne operated the hatch and as the ramp like door slid down they came face to the face with the dull blue-grey bio-material that the Wraith grew their ships from. It was encrusted with dirt and the shells of small invertebrate animals – very similar to the barnacles found on Earth, but it still seemed to be intact. Searching round Lorne found the Wraith airlock controls and hesitantly tried to operate them.

Nothing happened.

"Great," he said softly.

"Let me try, major," Teyla said easing past him with an easy athletic grace that spoke of a lifetime of physical conditioning. Reaching out she touched the control, the control glowed as it sensed the small amount of Wraith DNA in her genetic makeup and obediently the outer door opened, jerkily as it was all silted up, but it opened, revealing a dimly lit compartment that had the characteristic organic appearance of Wraith technology.

Cautiously the team advanced into the airlock chamber, where Teyla once again operated the inner door. The interior of the Wraith cruiser was as dimly lit as the airlock chamber, the air was bracingly cold as the ships environmental support system was barely operating, and the air had the characteristic half dead smell of the interior of a Wraith ship.

"Jameson stay here and guard the jumper," Lorne instructed to one of the marines.

"Yes sir," Sergeant Jameson answered.

"Everyone else do remember to be on your guard," Lorne continued "remember this is still an enemy ship, some of the crew are likely to be stiff alive. The Asgard only picked up one life sign from orbit but that doesn't mean anything; especially if the Wraith are hibernating."

One by one everyone nodded in agreement; most of the marines like the rest of Sheppard's team had regularly encountered the vampire-like aliens on a number of occasions over the last three years. They all knew to be very careful around the Wraith, especially when the Wraith were hungry – as any on this ship were likely to be – as a hungry Wraith was much more unpredictable and therefore more dangerous one than one who had just fed off someone. The only blessing about hungry Wraith was they died quicker.

"Okay which way, Rodney," Lorne asked as Rodney took an Ancient hand scanner from a pocket on his flak jacket and scanned the area.

"They strongest energy reading is coming from that way," Rodney said pointing down the left hand corridor. Lorne nodded and started walking, keeping his P90 at the ready position as he advanced. Ronon walked beside him keeping his own energy blaster ready as slowly, cautiously they all began to make there way down into the stinking bowls of the crashed Wraith cruiser.

* * *

Unknown to Major Lorne he was right to be concerned. Deep within the core of the half wrecked ship a single solitary officer Wraith moved towards the one remaining operational hibernation chamber. His features were gaunt with hunger as he hadn't fed in weeks, all but a handful of the warrior drones had been sacrificed to sustain him and the others as they took it in turns to stand a lonely vigil waiting for a rescue from this place that had become their prison.

And now at last it seemed that freedom was once more within their grasp. He had observed the approach on a small craft of Lantean design and construction on what few external sensors still operated, and had seen it dock. The internal sensors had detected the presence of Humans, of prey fresh with life force, boarding the ship through one of the aft airlocks. Enough to feed them all and the prey had been kind enough to bring them the means to escape this prison after ten thousand years.

Arriving in the hibernation chamber the weakened male Wraith moved over to the control console and started the revival sequence. Around the room a number of the hibernation cells in the honeycomb like structure began to glow from within. Inside each active cell a dark shape began to move as the remains of the cruisers crew and their Queen began to stir from their long sleep.

The Wraith smiled as his Queen and fellows began to awaken from their slumber. Soon, very soon now they would all be awake. And they would finally be able to sate their hunger and escape back out into the galaxy once more.

It would be glorious.


End file.
